Oenone
by SaintCatherine
Summary: Mary made a big mistake at Hatfield with George Boleyn and finds herself with child. The only way to save herself from ruin is through marriage and acceptance of her bastardy. But when religion, the malice of women and the political pawns of monarchs is played, how will Mary assure her own safety?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Yes. I love writing stories about women becoming knocked up. Enjoy and please Review.**

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><p>Pandemonium.<p>

That was all she could think of. Everything she had worked for had unquestionably been messed up. Oh how disappointed her mother would be if she had found out that her only daughter, the heir to the throne, had instigated in a sin of the worst kind. And of course was now reaping the consequences of her actions. Here she was, eighteen years old and with child. Nobody knew of course and any rumours that she had expected to float around had seemed not to start at all.

Perhaps her 'lover' did not gloat about it for fear of the king's wrath or perhaps she meant nothing to him at all. Mary swallowed hard and attempted to force some spiced wine down her throat. The Princess Elizabeth was asleep in her cradle and her duties had all but finished for the day. Now she was all alone to sit and brood in her chamber. Her second monthly course was several weeks late almost making it the third missed course. She had denied the whole affair weeks ago, but the unwelcomed company of nausea, vomiting, toiletry problems and swelling breasts was enough to convince her that indeed God had punished her for transgressing his limits.

The princess closed her eyes for a minute as if to wish this very monstrosity away, but knew such attempts were futile. She had prayed a few times for God in his mercy to expel the abomination in her womb, but that in itself was a grievous sin and something she would have to confess in the future. Probably not something she would confess until her death bed if she managed to survive the coming months. But she knew she needed to put her pride and dignity aside (did a whore even have such things?) and prepare herself for her inevitable demise.

She had spent days praying for guidance asking God what she should do and the only thing she could think of was coming out with the truth. The Boleyns' had won and she would have to resign herself to their terms on her illegitimacy and indeed nothing was short of the truth. She had abrogated her right to the throne the minute she had decided to let George Boleyn have her against the table like a common doxy.

There was nothing else to be done. She needed to get to court and worm her way back into favour and somehow convince George Boleyn to marry her. That way, when she was due to give birth, the outrage would be less and perhaps the king would leave her be and acknowledge his grand child. She was his daughter after all so if he thought that her and George had eloped and married without permission instead of her whoring herself to a noble, the chances of her being completely disowned might be less slim. Surely the king still had some feelings left for her?

But the problem was, would George agree to her terms? Her mouth tightened in contempt. He would have to, to save his own neck as her child would not be blessed unless she named the father and if she named him whilst being unmarried, the king would be furious. And in any case, if he refused her, she would tell the king he had raped her and it wouldn't be hard to believe with the knowledge of her ill treatment in Elizabeth's household and the rumours surrounding Anne Boleyn that she wanted her disgraced and murdered.

No. This all had to work in her favour. She could very well put up with a loveless marriage as her repentance to God, but she couldn't cope with the backlash and shunning of society knowing her for a whore and a traitor. Licking her lips and smoothing out her black gown, Mary stood up and left her small chamber to speak to the Lady Bryan. On her behalf, Princess Elizabeth's governess would write to the king with the 'good news' of her humble reconciliation to his authority over her as her father and the fact that she was the child of a void sinful marriage. It was a harsh price to pay, but the only way to save herself and her mother from other prospects of dishonour.

She couldn't hide the signs of her pregnancy in this place either when the months would progress as she only had two gowns and two night shifts. Nothing to encompass or conceal her growing belly, but if she was allowed back at court, the king would surely give her the money to buy new clothes. Perhaps if everything worked out, George would make plans to send her away to the country to give birth in secret. It was too much to hope for, but she needed a husband in name to conceal her filthy deed.

Lady Bryan was sitting quietly at a desk going over the household accounts. She was completely oblivious to Mary's presence and it was only when she cleared her throat that Lady Bryan raised her head and gave her a scornful glare. "Lady Mary," she said in an irritated voice obviously not being above hiding her dislike for the king's elder daughter. Making sure she was calm and reserved and ignoring the cold rudeness in which she was received, the princess patiently stated her proposition. The look on Lady Bryan's face was for lack of a better word priceless.

It didn't go as she expected. The older woman eyed her with suspicion and said that she would relay this information to the queen tomorrow. Anne Boleyn was expected it seemed that yet again things were working in her favour. All she needed was a little time and patience and hope to God that no one noticed the change in her features. She already looked pale, gaunt and thin since she could hardly eat and was fearful as well as miserable with all the problems that circled around her.

She gave a slight bow and headed back to her chambers, removed her gown, under skirts and linen, slipped on her shift and said her prayers. Most of the prayer was pleading for God's forgiveness and mercy before pleading with him to help her through the ordeal. She didn't pray for her child as she could not bring herself to properly acknowledge its existence yet. It would always serve as a reminder for her many mistakes and her mother's futile attempts to hold the throne and she didn't even think she could bear to look at it when it was born. Painstakingly, she made the sign of the cross and blew out her candle. It was a long sleepless night.

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><p>Mary awoke in the early hours of the morning, groggy eyed, sore joints, tender breasts and with the unwelcome taste of bile rising up in her throat. Groaning, she lifted her exhausted body out of bed and reached over for the bucket she had started keeping in her room. It was cleaned out by a scullery maid who served her breakfast and on her behalf asked Lady Bryan constantly to send for a physician. Lady Bryan thought it was one of her many illnesses again and until she was extremely bed-ridden or near death, she would not be receiving any physician for her health.<p>

Sometimes she thought that her scullery maid suspected her, but that might have all come down to blatant paranoia. In any case, Mary was grateful for all that she did for her in this unforgiving punishing place. Unable to contain herself any longer, Mary bent over and vomited up last night's meagre dinner into the bucket. She was sure there would be more instances of this during the day and it annoyed Lady Bryan greatly, but once she was out of this place all she had to focus on was finding George.

Wiping her mouth with a spare cloth, as if on queue, the maid entered with a slight curtsey as always with some fresh spring water for Mary to glug down. Humbly, Mary thanked the woman and willingly relished in the effectiveness of the water removing the taste of bile from her mouth. She leaned against the side of her bed and closed her eyes as she waited for the extreme nausea to pass. It was always worse in the mornings. That must be where it got its name from. She must have sat there for several moments before she brought up the courage to stand and get ready for the day.

She needed to look presentable after all. If anything, she wasn't going to look like a desperate beggar to the 'queen' when she shamefully admitted before her that she was a bastard. Despite the possibility of having George Boleyn for a husband, she wondered if Anne would have much displeasure at seeing her step-daughter married to her own brother. Mary wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but in the end it wasn't important. When she was dressed and presentable and had managed to swallow down a few bites of her breakfast, Lady Bryan wasted no time in setting her tasks and having her wait on the Princess Elizabeth.

Mary got through it all with her mind elsewhere and when the pageboy signalled the arrival of the queen, she was sent away to her chambers, but that didn't mean she couldn't hear anything. If Lady Bryan failed to inform Anne that she had recanted, she would come out and request an audience with the queen to hear her proposition. All she had to do now was sit and wait. To pass the time, Mary focused on her prayers and blocked out the fussing and praises for the Princess Elizabeth.

She heard footsteps approaching her room and she was greeted with none other than the stony face of the Lady Bryan. "The queen wishes to see you," she said demurely as if Mary had nothing good or important to say. With a haughty expression, Mary rose from her place, smoothed out her gown and headed to Elizabeth's chamber. There she saw the 'queen' in all her beautiful glory. As much as she hated to admit it, motherhood had very much become Anne Boleyn and she could see why the king would do anything for this woman. Mary had only seen her on few occasions as a younger girl, but seeing her now in all her queenly glory made her realize just how much the power of beauty could do.

It was a shame Mary herself was born with such plain looks. Being the princess had its advantages with jewels and pretty gowns to enhance her looks, but for the most part she was nothing special without them despite the fame of beauty or own mother once had. She didn't even want to contemplate what she looked like now. There was darkness under her eyes from exhaustion, her skin was sickly pallid, her hair had lost its shine and her eyes had lost their vibrancy. Anyone who looked at her would think she was broken although the child in her womb was mostly to blame for her physical attributes now.

Anne Boleyn eyed her with mild curiosity and surprise, but her smile _seemed _genuine. Mary offered her a slight bow as the king's whore approached her. "Lady Mary is it true? You wish to recant?" Swallowing hard and doing her best to keep her nausea down, she replied. "Yes Your Majesty," she said as serenely as she could. The use of Anne's new title only delighted her more and she was beaming wide. Either from triumph or actually wanting to make friend's with the king's daughter, she did not know.

"This is excellent news! I know His Majesty will be most pleased and perhaps you and I will be good friends?" Mary was amazed. The queen's hopes for friendship sounded unadulterated just like her smile. Either she was a deceiving snake or she was stupid enough to believe that the king's daughter actually wanted peace with her. "I hope so Your Grace. I only want peace and to be reconciled to my father. I have done a lot of thinking and thought it would be best to resign myself to his authority. Perhaps it would encourage my poor mother to listen and she could live in peace and tranquillity honourably in some other more biddable household. I am sure the king would be very kind if we both recant."

Mary could have sworn she almost vomited into her own mouth after saying those treacherous words. Her mother would be horrified that her only daughter had betrayed her, but at least she could convince the king to start being kind to her and her mother could spend the rest of her days in a pious religious life. It was something Mary herself would be doing once she married that sorry drunkard of a Boleyn. "Yes," Anne offered positively completely oblivious to Mary's distress. "I hate it that we all have to fight like this. I only want to make peace and you are…my step-daughter after all and even the king told me that you are the pearl of his world." Mary offered a weak smile at that remembering the days when she had been her father's sweetheart and when he use to grab her by her waist and spin her in the air.

"Indeed," she said not being able to contain herself anymore and stumbled from dizziness. Alarmed, Anne grabbed her arms and steadied her asking if she was alright. Surprised at the queen's eagerness to help her, Mary decided to play on her sympathy. "Forgive me Your Majesty, I have not been well for many weeks and my strength has been compromised. If the king does not wish me back at court then perhaps you can intercede on my behalf for him to send me a physician? My illness has made me lack in ability to perform my daily tasks."

Anne shook her head vigorously. "No you will come to court as soon as possible and have the best of care. The king will be glad to see you. I will arrange for you to come within the week if you are well enough to travel, but you will have to sign the act of succession…" she added on. Mary nodded and said she wished for nothing more than to be reconciled to her father and be at peace. Anne was glad for that and ordered that Elizabeth's physician take a look at the Lady Mary and ordered them to bring her a decent meal. The women who served Elizabeth were now set to task with making Mary's lodgings more comfortable while Anne sent the pageboy with a message to the king of the good news.

It went better than Mary expected and for once she could relax. It was enough to make her forget what was at stake and even the burden growing within her womb.


	2. Chapter 2

**Please review. The more reviews I get, the more I write :) I love hearing opinions on the matter and as per title, Oenone was the first wife of Paris in the Iliad story of Troy.**

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><p>Things were quiet in the deep dark confines of his chamber. George had only just returned from negotiations with his father abroad and was glad for the rest. They had spent over a month in France and he had fancied most of his time in the beds of married French ladies of the queen's retinue. In all, it had been a very satisfying month and it had helped him forget…<p>

His mouth turned into a deep frowned when she reached his thoughts again despite the effort he had made to push her out and pretend she didn't exist as well as denying what had happened between them. What he had done was treason in its highest forms. He had disgraced the king's daughter and if anyone found out what he had done, it wouldn't just be his neck on the block, Anne and his whole family would be compromised too.

The king's love for Anne would only go so far and as much as he didn't mind sending his elder daughter into exile, George didn't doubt for a second that the king would show any mercy to the man who had dishonoured the Tudor name. It had been a mistake, an act of weakness out of pity, but he was certain that she would keep silent about it to save her own reputation as useless as it was. But sometimes he couldn't forget the feel of her soft creamy thighs, the scent of rose water in her hair, the heat and warmth the most damp and secret part of her body had offered him.

George wasn't a man who really feared God in any sense. Here merely negotiated with him. Did not Jesus die for all sins? He was sure the sins of carnal lust fell into that category. George in nature was a very carnal man. Not perverted. He didn't consider himself perverted for when the sins of the flesh were offered before him without any questions, he indulged in it as much as he could. Man or woman, he did not care. While a woman's flesh was mind boggling and provided outwardly pleasure, the company of men and the feel of their bodies against his was something George had always appreciated.

Never had he imagined that he would make his way into the petticoats of a banished and forgotten princess. In reality his own step-niece no less! But she had been warm and inviting and in need of comfort and he had conveniently been available. He only happened to be in the area hunting with some friends and saw no problem with visiting the little princess who was only a babe in the cradle.

Upon his leaving of Elizabeth's chamber he had heard muffled sobs coming from an adjacent room down the hall. He had seen a lady in a black gown leaning against some cushioned seats sobbing her heart out. Curious and thinking that this woman if beautiful might be an easy lay if he comforted her, he approached her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

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><p>"<em>Is everything alright Mistress?"<em>

_The young woman in question lifted her tear stained face up and George was taken aback. "L-lady Mary," he said in astonishment. Mortified at being found in this state, the princess quickly stood up and made a poor effort to wipe the tears away from her eyes. _

"_And you are?" She asked with a broken and raspy voice. He hesitated before he answered her, but for some reason it pained him to see her in this state. Of course he had seen many horrors in his life, even disgrace befalling his own sister Mary Carey, but it just upset him to see something that had once been so majestic, loved and respected be reduced to this._

_Is this what the king had wanted when he banished his own daughter to this place? To see his daughter broken beyond recognition? George himself may have not had children or even wanted them, but even he wouldn't contemplate doing something like this to his own child who in all cases was guilty of nothing but her title. "George," he said quietly. "George Boleyn."_

_A brief look of alarm crossed her face, but it was quickly composed to something cold and distant. It was amazing at how fast she was able to compose herself. It was probably one of the many reasons why she was able to survive this long. "I see," she whispered looking to the ground. "Come to spy on me?" She dared to ask. He ignored the rude tone in her voice although he couldn't blame her for it._

"_To see my niece actually." Whether she believed him or not, she didn't show it, but he couldn't help the guilt that was creeping up into his throat. He never had much satisfaction at seeing great people brought to their knees especially innocent great people. No wonder why the rumours against his sister were so poisonous, but it was not Anne who ordered the girl to this place nor had she ordered her ill treatment. _

_Mary muttered something unintelligible under her breath and looked up at him again with those sad beautiful clear blue eyes. "Walk with me," he said impulsively making her stare at him in bewilderment. A hoarse laugh escaped her throat. "Walk with you where? Alone? D'you take me for a fool?" George had the decency to look shame faced._

"_No my lady, I thought you just needed some fresh air out in the gardens where there is no one around. I suppose the ladies of the princess's chamber will have no qualms at mocking your current state if they saw you. I thought that you needed someone to talk to." He didn't know why he was even offering such services to the girl who by all means was their arch enemy, but she was broken, powerless and harmless. Her state was something he needed to get off his conscience. She eyed him warily for a few moments and then shrugged. "I suppose I could use some fresh air," she said dryly. He was surprised she even considered the offer, but guessed that the loneliness and sorrow had finally gotten her to the point that she wouldn't mind a 'jolly' walk with the brother of the woman who had usurped her mother's position and her own. _

_Making sure no one was around; George led her out the back door into the white savannah of the gardens within the mansion of the princess's household. Mary grudgingly trotted behind with her head bowed shamefully low. "I assume you will be reporting this to your sister?" She said with a hint of spite. Deciding not to dignify that with an answer, he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a handkerchief. _

_He turned around and held it out to her, but she didn't take it. "For your eyes my lady. Don't worry it is not poisoned despite what you think of the lengths my family would go to." He knew that was a lie and a hypocritical statement. They had gone to hell and back to get Anne on the throne. Innocent people had died for Anne's triumph, but for now, no one intended any harm for Lady Mary so long as Anne gave the king a son._

_Which she would. Mary hesitated for a few moments, but decided there was no harm in it. George thought that since her arch nemesis had already seen her crying in a pitiful heap, she may as well accept his sympathy. Grudgingly, the Lady Mary wiped her eyes and continued walking along side him. She wasn't even rigid. Her shoulders had slumped, her head was down and she was ominously silent. He didn't know what to say or do. The one thing to get her out of this misery would be for her to just accept that the king didn't want her mother any more._

_Anne only wanted to make friends with the king's daughter and if she just signed the succession act, she would be welcomed at court and still live in all the richness she had as a princess. Perhaps there was some way he could convince her? His face turned sour at his own thoughts. Since when was he so adamant to help anyone? Since when did he care about crying banished princesses?_

_He looked at her pale face and bit his lip. She was just a child. No older than eighteen or seventeen he should think. "There is a spare chamber off the hall that they prepare for the queen or any visitors that comes by. Shall I take you there? They have some good wine and it might warm you up. It seems too cold out here," he offered. Again she eyed him with suspicion but made no protest on the matter. Slowly, he led her up to the other end of the manor where a few lowly servants greeted them and he ordered them to bring them wine and some food._

_Mary slumped in a chair and briefly looked around the well furnished room of the guest chamber. She hadn't been allowed in here before, but the warmth of heat within the room from the fireplace was inviting. "Why are you doing all this for me?" She whispered with evident mistrust in her voice. She probably thought he was going to poison her now with wine or food at least that was what he thought. It was like she was a caged animal in this place, but on further thinking on the issue, it was more or less the truth._

"_Well my lady, I wasn't aware of…how upset you are. This is the least I could do, but don't ask me why. There isn't much I can do." The servants returned with wine, fruit, cheese, meat and bread. George dismissed them once the table was set. They all thought he was yet another messenger from the king to coerce the Lady Mary into accepting her illegitimacy. _

"_Eat," he said in an effort to lift up her spirits. She looked like she could do with a decent meal to bring some rosiness into her cheeks. He was sure the wine would take care of that. Gingerly, Mary broke pieces of her bread and bit in, adding some cold meat and cheese afterwards before washing the rest away with some warm mulled wine. George poured her some more and began drinking and eating himself. Already she was starting to look a bit better and a healthier colour spread over her face._

"_Thank you," she whispered eventually, but her voice was bitter. George swallowed down more wine losing track of how much he had had. He was going to have a real headache once he mounted his horse. "Well I think the king would be much displeased to see that you are not eating well. I mean I suppose this is just a punishment to make you think about your decisions, not to make you suffer," he offered cordially. He noticed that she attempted to conceal a snort. It brought a slight smile to his lips seeing her mood lightened. _

_She drank from what must have been her third cup of wine and let out a deep sigh. George thought she was quite pretty with her honey brown hair and crystal blue eyes. She wasn't the famed beauty like his sister or what her mother use to be, but she still had the looks that would tempt any prince to make an honourable match with her. "I'll never surrender," she muttered making him frown. He put down his goblet and ran his fingers through his hair. He needed to cut it again. The thick strands were getting too long. _

"_It would be best if you did. You wouldn't have to live like this anymore. The king and queen would welcome you back to court and your mother I am sure, will be sent to a house with wages and live a quiet life honourably. You may be illegitimate, but I am sure the king would still marry you to a prince no less." She looked away exhausted. He understood. She was tired from all the fighting, of constantly having to plead with the king. It may be a good sign that she would finally break and give in, but even he couldn't help but feel pity. "You need someone to make you laugh." The random innovation surprised her and she gazed at him. God she had such beautiful eyes…_

"_I haven't laughed for a long time," she replied as if joy was a foreign concept to her. He smiled demurely racking his brain for a joke. But everything he thought of sounded too crude or blasphemous for her tastes. "Have you ever been with a man?" Immediately she was straightened up and was alert. "What kind of a question is that? Of course not! I am not married and I am the king's daughter no less," she snapped._

_He chuckled, but her eyes were blazing with anger. "Don't be so touchy milady dragon. This isn't an interrogation and as if anyone would believe the ramblings of the queen's drunkard brother no less." Mary didn't relax, but he supposed it was because he had compared her to a raging fire breathing mythological creature. "Not even a kiss?" Mary shook her head. "Not once."_

_Playfully he stroked his chin and pretended to be in deep thought. "Then perhaps I can grant the Lady Mary's wish and grant her a kiss?" She stood up in blatant anger, but of course been raised as Princess of Wales, she made sure her manners were in check and that she was composed. "Sir this is highly inappropriate conversation and I have no carnal wants or need for it. Thank you for the kindness you have shown me, but I must return to my tasks."_

_She set about to leave, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her towards him. "Just a gift my lady," he said softly and gently pressed his lips against hers. He didn't know why, perhaps because he was drunk or because he pitied her or because she was beautiful, he felt the need to give her, her first kiss. It was surprising that she didn't fight back, but when he pulled away, she was staring at him in astonishment._

"_I do not mean to disgrace you. I mean it in kindness as I doubt you will get any for a long time with your stubbornness, but for what its worth I do wish you the best Lady Mary." He let go of her arm and she stood there for several moments not knowing what to do or say. Eventually she turned to leave, but instead of going out the door, she locked it. _

"_Lady Mary?" He questioned in confusion seeing that she had started to cry again. Her back was to him but he could hear a few of her muffled sobs. "You stole my first kiss," she cried. George touched her shoulders with little shame. Did nothing please this girl? Mary turned around and slapped him. For a few moments he touched his burning cheek in shock before glaring at her. _

_He lunged at her, grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head against the wall. The wine was clouding his judgement and before she could scream out at him, his mouth came down upon hers and he pressed his hardness against her womanhood through the many layers of skirts. He kissed her passionately even though she struggled and eventually he broke away and let her go. They were both breathing hard. _

"_Go," he said dismissively. "If that is how you treat people who show you kindness." But Mary didn't go. She walked up to him and stared at him for a few confusing moments before slapping him again. There was a challenge in her eyes and George got it. He grabbed her, pushed the food off the table and pressed her against it. She offered no resistance and her own arms wrapped around him. Her gown on its own had shifted above her thighs and her legs were wide open on either side of him. George passionately kissed her, enjoying the spring of her mouth._

_She moaned into it and they only broke apart to catch their breaths. His hand began to creep up her soft milky thigh and he pressed his forehead against hers. She gently lifted her chin up and kissed his lips tenderly once more. Her consent. George then realized that he would be stealing something else…_

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><p>Rolling over and gritting his teeth, George buried his head within his pillow. It had been a mistake. A huge mistake.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Review :D**

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><p>The ride to court at Greenwich was going to take many days at least. Mary sat quietly in the carriage opposite the queen with a cold stone face. She wasn't trying to look rude, but it was the only way to contain the acid taste picking up in intensity in her mouth. The queen for the most part, kept her eyes out on the semi-whitish savannah of the woods that they went past. It may have been early March, but it was still unbearably cold and the snow had barely begun to melt.<p>

Anne occasionally spared her a smile and a remark about the scenery and the weather to which Mary generously replied, but after that they rode in silence. However it was starting to become unbearable and the princess supposed she needed the strike up a conversation in order to get her mind off her present infirmity. "How are things at court Your Majesty?" The queen turned to her as if in relief to hear her say something and cleared her throat. "Oh, everything is merry with constant feasting and dancing. You'll be very happy there and I am sure your health will be improved."

Mary nodded and inquired after the king to which as usual, he was healthy and well and seemed not to care about his real wife locked away in a dreary manor elsewhere in England. Mary bit her dry lip and decided it couldn't hurt to ask the queen a few questions about pregnancy. After all, Anne had already delivered a healthy baby girl and she was sure the queen wouldn't suspect a thing if Mary kept it as casual conversation.

"The Princess Elizabeth is very healthy," Mary remarked attempting to steer Anne into her line of conversation. The queen smiled in amazement seeing how fondly the former princess spoke of her little sister. Of course there was a brief look of suspicion on the queen's face, but it was quickly washed away and Anne gave Mary the details on how healthy Elizabeth was since birth. "What about the pregnancy? Was it hard carrying your first child?" Anne's expression was thoughtful but she shook her head.

"Only hard as there was so much hope and pressure for a boy, but as for the pregnancy itself, I went through it like a breeze. I suppose it depends on the woman's health whether she finds it easy to carry a child or not." Mary was surprisingly relieved at that thinking that because of her poor health she might miscarry and be free of her burden. But knowing that she was endorsing murder, she mentally crossed herself and willed such thoughts away. However whatever information Anne had told her was useful. For now though she had to prepare herself for her return at court where Anne assured her that the king was waiting.

Mary wondered if he would greet her with triumph, contempt or overwhelming joy. It was hard to decide with a father like Henry. He had always been very unpredictable. Letting her eyes briefly flick over to the beautiful ice queen, Mary cleared her throat and dared to ask another dangerous question. "Is your family well?" Anne smiled and nodded. "As well as can be. My father and brother have returned from France to enjoy the spring with us."

The princess's heart began to beat a little faster. "Your brother is at court?" Bewildered by the question Anne nodded. "Yes. He will be taking a wife this spring. Young Jane Parker." Mary's face bleached white and she felt her throat constrict within her neck. Oh no…no no no. She had to get to him before he married another woman and left her in disgrace!

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><p>Mary followed Anne anxiously as they announced their arrival at court. As she stepped out of the carriage after the queen, the lad who helped her out was staring at her in awe as many others. Many men removed their hats from their heads and pressed it to their hearts and shouted 'God Bless the Lady Mary!' Women crossed themselves and gazed at her with admiration for her courage and pity for what she had suffered. She was surprised as well as soothed to see the loyalty of the palace servants before her and secretly rejoiced in it. However the grim expression on Anne's face did not escape her notice and Mary quickly lowered her gaze.<p>

She knew she would always as her mother, have the hearts of the people and nothing Anne could do would change that. Lifting the skirts of her simple black gown, Mary followed the queen and a few ladies into the warm confines of Greenwich. The queen briefly turned to her and gave her a wane smile. "The king is expecting you and wishes for you to sign the Supremacy Act and the Succession Act in front of his privy council. I trust you have no problem with this?" Mary shook her head. "No," she said humbly and Anne patted her shoulder.

Like a dutiful servant, she walked right behind the queen ignoring the inquisitive gazes and whispers of the lords and ladies of the court. Some eyed her with pity, others with mild curiosity and some with mistrust. She was sure a select few like Ambassador Chapuys would be eyeing her with disappointment once she entered the king's presence, but it would be nothing compared to when he found out what satanic evil she kept hidden in her belly.

Licking her lips as the trumpets announced the arrival into the king's presence chamber, Mary couldn't help but think this grand procession and all the audience in the chamber was to make sure she was truly reconciled to her new situation and compliant. Being thought of as suspicious didn't bother her too much. She was worried that one of the women would see the signs of pregnancy within her and know her for a whore.

_Be calm _she told herself and sucked in her breath as she entered after the queen. While Anne had already taken her place beside the king, Mary bowed, swallowed hard and looked up as she saw her father gazing at her at the other end of the red carpet. All the emotions that were within that one look were too much to describe. Regret, remorse, happiness, fear even…

Mary licked her lips, took her mind off her nausea and approached the king's throne with her head held high. She kept her eyes on his face and his face only noticing he had aged a bit and had grown himself a moustache. It suited him and he was still the beautiful and shining golden king everyone claimed him to be. Her face however, was impassive. She couldn't believe the feelings welling up inside her, but couldn't deny them either. Hatred. That was all she felt. Hatred for her own father.

With all the grace she had been taught as a princess, Mary knelt and kept her head humbly low. "I am Your Majesty's most humble and obedient servant," she said gently, hoping that any malice in her voice was unnoticed by all. She felt the king's smooth hands reach under her chin as he raised it and stared at her with glassy eyes. "Mary," he breathed and stood up bidding her to rise with him. A sorrowful smile was trying to break out on his lips. "My daughter, returned home at last." He hugged her and everyone clapped.

And when he let go his hand went out to the table before them with several scrolls of paper. Mary did her best to remain indifferent as if she wasn't signing away her immortal soul. Cromwell and the members of the Privy Council were on the opposite side of the table scrutinizing her as if she was nothing more than an unwanted wart on the king's toe. The only face that even looked remarkable friendly was that of the Duke of Suffolk. If anything he looked more than _sympathetic. _

Straightening up, she walked to the table in a few strides along with the king and queen at either side of her shoulders. How small and pitiful she felt indeed. Arch Bishop Cranmer was in front looking impressively neutral and he cleared his throat. Thomas Boleyn, the man that had revealed to her the news of her illegitimacy was sneering at her and then her eyes turned on to the man behind him. For a second she froze and all she could feel was the accelerated beat of her heart hammering in her chest.

George Boleyn was staring at her in astonishment and he seemed to have started sweating despite the coolness of the room. Was he that shocked to see her? Did he think that she would blabber it out that he had defiled the king's daughter? Whatever reservations he felt, Mary didn't have time to guess as Cranmer's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Lady Mary, with all these witnesses present and as an oath before God, you will sign these papers to show your duty and your loyalty before the king."

He handed her a quill dipped in ink and everyone watched anxiously as Mary took it to sign the Act of Succession. She knew hesitating was useless and would warrant whispers of mistrust behind her back. She would just have to swallow her pride and do it. With the quick flick of her wrist, she signed her name, Lady Mary Tudor. Cranmer took the quill and dipped it again before giving it back to Mary to sign the Supremacy Act and other ignoble ones. As she signed with trepidation and silence, she bit back the overwhelming urge to vomit and burst out in tears. Whether it was from the baby or her own disgust, she did not know, but by the time she was finished, there was a round of applause and the king hugged her and kissed her forehead.

"Welcome back to court," he said cheerfully although it fell upon deaf ears. Mary was numb inside and she turned her head to look for George. Despite being her enemy, he was the only man who had ever shown her pity and had known her carnally. However as she looked back at the great Lords, she found that he was nowhere in sight.

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><p>They wasted no time. The king had already ordered a banquet in her honour and chambers next to the queen for her to get settled in. She was given two lady attendants and was positive she would have more when she showed good behaviour in the coming months although that would all be meaningless when the truth came out. Mary was given one of the queen's gowns to wear for the grand feast until the seamstresses provided her with her own large wardrobe display. In fact she was to be measured tomorrow by the queen's own seamstresses. She would have to think of a way to tell them to make the bodice capable of concealing and encompassing her growing belly as well as having thick skirts to cover the bulge.<p>

But for now she could forget her worries and enjoy merry dancing down in the grand hall. Anne's dress was tight on her breasts as they had swollen so large, but as she was trained to do, she hid her discomfort. She was seated beside the king who asked after the Princess Elizabeth and made promises to restore some of her old tutors, ladies and friends and even the hint that he may look for a husband for her. Mary was compliant and bobbed her head slightly. She couldn't bear to swallow any wine and with the way people were looking at her, she supposed she looked very out of place with her obvious discomfort.

Finally the king asked her if she wanted to dance and Mary briefly squeezed her eyes shut before forcing herself to smile and say yes. Gulping, she took his hand as he led her to the dance floor before the royal table and everyone parted and bowed to watch the king and his daughter dance. The king called for a waltz and Mary silently thanked God that it was slow and wouldn't require much spinning. With all the grace and dignity she could muster, Mary followed the king on her dainty feet all the while feigning an overjoyed smile.

Soon the other courtiers joined in and when the dance finished everyone clapped and praised her return. Other confident males asked for her to dance, but she had to politely decline fearing that if she was spun around again, she would vomit. All she wanted to do was let it out and fall down upon her bed. As Mary returned to her seat, the queen must have sensed her illness by how pale she looked and reached over to touch her hand. "Lady Mary are you unwell?"

The king's attention turned to his daughter full of paternal concern. Mary grudgingly nodded and tried to make up an excuse. "Forgive me, but the excitement has been too much for the day and I haven't been able to properly rest since the journey. Your Majesty is aware that I was ill at Hatfield," she said quietly to Anne. The king placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Perhaps you should rest. Shall I send for the physician?" Mary shook her head. She didn't want them prying and she doubted she could outsmart Dr Linacre if the king sent him.

Anne ordered one of her ladies to escort Mary back to her chambers. She was a plump girl from the Howard family. A Shelton. Mary curtseyed to the king and queen and left the grand hall. She scanned over it one more time looking for George and her eyes eventually found him sitting at a far table talking to a pretty young lady with curly blonde hair. Was that his betrothed or some flirt he was doing to pass the time?

His eyes lifted up and he caught her staring at him. Mary quickly looked away and bid Mistress Shelton to follow her. They both walked in cordial silence until they got to her chambers. Conscious of her body, Mary had the servants run her a bath and she watched quietly as they came back and forth with buckets of hot water to pour into the wooden tub lined with cloths. Refusing to have them undress her and bathe her, Mary removed her gown, underskirts, shift and linen before looking at her form in a mirror that was helpfully placed into her new luxurious room.

She looked at herself sideways and frowned when she could see a small bump protruding from her hips. She had lain with George in early January and had now missed two courses. As the princess of course she kept track of these things and the third one was a few days late itself. Biting her lip and moving away from the mirror with sagging shoulders, Mary stepped into the bath and let the warmth of the rose water wash away her sins.


	4. Chapter 4

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**Tell me what you think**

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><p>He sat silently as the fire crackled before him. He stoked the flames and returned to his chair and poured himself more wine. It tasted bitter. Extremely so. The woman in his bed gave a soft sleeping moan and rolled over still asleep. George spared her a lingering look before his eyes returned to the orange heat. Jane Parker was a good lover and although they were not married, betrothed was just enough. Since his sister had come to the throne, he had hit the jackpot and was in a few weeks time, going to marry one of the prettiest girl's at court and gain a very handsome dowry.<p>

Jane was a wife any man would desire. Fair, dark blue eyes, small but delicious breasts, wide hips for child bearing and a passionate bitch in heat. She was no virgin although she pretended to be. They all pretended to be except…

He bit his lip. Mary had been his first virgin. Curious, frightened, warm and resistant. He remembered entering her body hard and hot for the first time and how she had yelped in pain. He had kissed away her tears constantly apologizing and had been so moved at how fragile a creature she was.

After all they did say that the devils loved the innocent. At least he knew now why the barbaric pagans use to sacrifice virgins to their non-existent Gods. It was a wonderful feeling plucking the petals of a sweet innocent rose. The power and domination that came with it were wonderful, the vulnerability and delicacy of the victim was exquisite. Mary had been delicious. There was no other word to describe it, but despite the 'manliness' he had felt at despoiling her, it had left him with a guilty feeling later.

She was the king's daughter. A banished princess. Their worst enemy. Their unholy union was an abomination in every sense, yet he couldn't help the strange feelings she stirred within him. Pity, the want to protect, fondness, care. Those were his feelings towards her and none of them had been ill indeed until today. When his father had told him someone special was coming to court to recognize Anne as queen, he had thought Thomas More had finally left his little cacoon of hypocrisy and had bent to the king's will.

How wrong he was. How sweetly wrong. When his eyes had set upon her beautiful melancholy face as she observed the scrolls on the table, his heart began to beat a thousand times faster. What was she doing here? And then realization had struck him. She had given up. She had given in. But why? What did she want? He closed his eyes when he remembered how she had found his face among the great lords and had stared at him expectantly. Almost pleadingly…

He rubbed his temples. As much as he had wanted things to be alright for her, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that her presence at court was a bad omen. He had not expected Katherine's daughter to give up. Despite him finding her crying in weakness, he knew she was the type of woman to wallow in her own self pity and that she would fight a battle she couldn't win and die with her Spanish pride.

And he doubted very much she wanted to make amends with Anne. For some reason he felt that she had a score to settle with _him. _It was as if she wanted something from him, but he didn't know what. It was just a feeling he had and he very much didn't want to get involved with her or even see her too much. It wasn't that he hated her but he hoped she wasn't harbouring any thoughts that he could be her secret lover here. As much as he wouldn't mind being in her royal warmth or running his fingers through her hair, he knew it was too dangerous.

He absolutely could not make a lover out of the king's daughter nor could he fall in love with her _as much as he wanted to. _His feelings in regards to her were so mixed up, but he knew if he thought with his cock then heads would fucking roll. And that was something he had to prevent at all costs for the sake of his family. For the sake of Anne. Grumbling and realizing that all this deep thinking had finally made him tired, he took off his robe and headed to bed with his betrothed.

However, the feel of Jane's naked body against his didn't help block out the conflicting feelings in his mind nor did she stir any great feelings of affection within him. She was a wife, just something for display and his evening's amusement. He could write her poetry, lavish her with gifts and sing her songs, but his heart didn't belong to her. To no one at all.

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><p>George spent the next few days attending the king on Privy Council meetings, attending hunts and watching the dances. Jane Parker annoyingly remained at his side, but her sense of loyalty and devotion somewhat moved him. There was no sign of the Lady Mary as the queen informed him that she had been very ill in Hatfield and enjoying the return feast had taken its toll on her. The physicians thought it best if she stayed away from the excitement for a little while. It was a relief for George as he didn't have to face her, but sometimes he couldn't forget the beautiful look of her sad blue eyes.<p>

There was talk on what to do with Thomas More and hints for him to be arrested and tried for treason if he did not recant. There was some other news about the dismantling of another monastery that the queen took interest in and then his father asked if him if there were any signs that Anne was with child. George shook his head but promised to ask Anne if need be.

Everything was up to her. An heir was needed for the throne and even he could see that Henry's patience was wearing thin. Sighing a bit, George decided to head to his chambers to rest for a while before the king and queen had their public dining tonight. Making a care to avoid his pretentious betrothed, he turned down the main halls where it gradually became emptier. His mind wasn't particularly focused on anything until he accidently bumped into someone. He turned his head to mutter an apology, but stopped dead in his tracks and froze. "Lady Mary," he breathed.

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><p>"Is it true?" Katherine said painfully. Mistress Darrel nodded and the Dowager Princess's eyes turned to William Brereton in an effort for him to deny the news he brought. "But why?" She choked feeling her heart constrict in her chest. "Mary had been fighting for so long just as I have. Why would she give up? Why now?" Brereton knelt before the queen and grabbed her hands.<p>

"I have absolute faith in the princess and I don't think for a minute she did this willingly. You heard the rumours Your Grace. She was very sick at Hatfield and she only complied with the king after a mysterious visit from the Harlot to her brat. The witch must have done something to coerce her. Threatened her with poison perhaps? The princess probably had no choice but to accept," William said bitterly.

Katherine took this in with great consideration and bit her bottom lip. If they were doing something to threaten her daughter then she would have to get her out of there and safely deport her to Spain. There was no choice. Katherine never thought she would have to resort to this, but war seemed like the only option.

"Are you sure it wasn't a foolish decision she made in hopes of persuading the king into making her the heir again?" William's mouth tightened into a thin line at the prospect and shook his head. "I don't think the princess is as foolish to persuade the king into anything and her education has not made her a fool. It is that evil harlot Anne Boleyn who has done something."

Painstakingly, Katherine nodded and spared a look at her only loyal lady in waiting before turning back to Brereton. "We have to work quickly. Make sure this reaches Ambassador Chapuys. It may take a few months, but that is all the time we need to inconspicuously slip her away from court and bring her to the coast to board a ship to Spain. I will let my contacts know and have a letter delivered to the Emperor with my plans."

William nodded and touched her hand in an admirable gesture. "And what will you do Your Majesty?" Katherine smiled wryly, but her eyes were filled with fierce determination. "I will gather an army and go to war in order to save the king. The whore has drenched this country in sin and heresy. It was too much to hope for the king to see that he was wrong and so I have no choice. The witch has attempted to beat my daughter-England's heir into submission and corruption, but I will not have it," she said strongly.

William kissed her hand. "But we must save the princess first," Katherine added and her word was final.

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><p>She hadn't expected to cross paths with him especially at a time like this and it left her speechless. She hadn't seen him for some months now, but he was as handsome as she remembered him. "Sir George," she said politely being aware of the threat of spies. George smiled at her and all she could feel was her racing heart and the heat that went to her cheeks.<p>

They had only made love once and yet he still had such an effect on her. "Where were you headed to?" She asked casually in an attempt to steer him in a conversation with her. It was hard to keep the smile plastered all over her face when George looked like he wanted to be elsewhere. "I was just heading back to my chambers to rest actually. Are you well my lady?"

She swallowed hard and offered him a wan smile. "As well as can be," she said sadly feeling a pang of hope when she saw his gaze waver to sympathy. A few awkward moments of silence passed before she opened her mouth to speak again. "I-I…I wanted to talk to you," she said in a barely audible whisper.

George's expression was beyond bewilderment and he looked around to make sure no one was watching them before grabbing Mary close and hissing in her ear. "It never happened Mary. Please forget it. Whatever hopes you had of continuing such a relationship, you can put it away. You need to understand how much danger you can land me and yourself into so please, for both our sakes, pretend it never happened."

It hurt him to see the astonishment on her face, but this was for her own good and his. He turned to leave her, but she grabbed his arm. There were tears in her eyes. "So what happened meant nothing to you at all?" She whispered in pain. In distress, George buried his face in his hand before gazing at her sharply. He could be nice and tell her it meant everything (which was what he wanted to say) but that would mean her having false hopes of him being her secret lover.

It was too much to risk and despite her beauty and sweet character, it just wasn't worth it. He did not love her. At least not enough to risk everything for her as lovers in fables did. He was no Lancelot and she needed to accept that and so he took the cruel way out. "It meant nothing to me. I was hot with desire and you were conveniently available. I have gotten what I wanted and now I do not care anything for you or any feelings that you wish to convey to me. I am sure you can find hordes of other lovers at court."

It was cruel and he was silently hoping she wouldn't fall to the floor in despair, but it had to be done. She had to forget about him. There would be other loves, perhaps a husband sooner or later and then she would have children to content herself with. Did she honestly want to ruin herself by pursuing him into her bed? Why else would she 'want to talk' with him? It had to be about that, what else?

He observed her for a few moments and saw her expression go stone cold. She stood there as still as a statue with her fists clench. He closed his eyes and stifled a groan before attempting to leave her again.

"George!" Her voice was sharp now and she stalked up to him. He raised his eyebrow in contempt as he watched her grit her teeth and eye him with such hatred that she could have put his own sister's vindictiveness to shame.

"What?" he barked not caring if anyone caught him speaking in such a manner to the king's daughter. "What do you fucking want?"

She seethed through her teeth and closed her eyes before opening them and locking them straight on his.

"I am with child."


	5. Chapter 5

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><p>It hadn't meant to come out like that. In fact she hadn't meant to tell him like that at all. Her intention had originally been to let him know she had something important to tell him and to meet her somewhere inconspicuous. But he had ruined. Ruined it all. She had shouted the news out of spite, but considering the things he had just said to her, he deserved it.<p>

The expression on his face was priceless and he stood there, perplexed and disorientated like a monkey. Eyes wide, jaw agape and paling considerably. She waited with impatient silence for several moments for him to say something and when his jaw finally snapped shut, she looked at him expectantly. All traces of kindness were gone from her face.

So she was just a toy to be used and tossed away? Well she wouldn't let him get rid of her so easily! "Y-you must be joking….you're just saying that to…" the expression on her face silenced him again. She looked at him in disgust and licked her dry lips. "I am almost three months now I think." She could see him gulp and it took some time for him to regain his senses. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Dear God this was bad.

"Are you sure?" He whispered hoarsely hoping to God no one had heard Mary's outburst. "D'you think I'm a fool George? I have all the symptoms. I came to court to tell you the very news in hopes that you would…" she hesitated. It was hard to spell it out when the very man before her looked so flabbergasted and baffled as a drunken jester. The whiteness of his face was enough to rival the clouds.

"In hopes that I'll what?" His voice was close to breaking. Mary wondered if he was on the verge of tears, but considering what he said earlier, she had no pity for him. "In hopes that you would marry me," she returned in a whisper. A painful one. He swallowed hard and before he could say anything else, a sickly sweet and familiar voice interrupted their conversation.

"George," Jane Parker said cheerfully. The both of them turned to see the tall, vivacious and beautiful woman approach. She walked up beside George and eyed Mary in surprise before dropping into a low curtsey. "Lady Mary," she said in a falsely sweet voice. "It is good to see you back at court."

She didn't give a reply. Only returned it with a sardonic smile before scrutinizing the woman up and down as she linked arms with George. "And you are?" Mary inquired in a cold and toneless voice. "Jane Parker my lady. Soon to be Lady Rochford," she said lovingly with her eyes on the confounded looking Boleyn. Mary's eyes narrowed and she looked from her to George and then back again. Her mouth tightened into a thin line.

George looked very much like he wanted to be somewhere else while his silly ninny of a fiancée ogled him like a dazed sheep. Mary felt sick. She had wanted to avoid this woman at all costs. She was hoping George would break the betrothal once they told the king that they had married, but here she was-smiling cheerfully and completely oblivious to anything that was amiss.

"Well I must be off. Sir George, Mistress Parker," Mary deadpanned with a polite nod of her head before quickly scuttling away. If anything, she wanted to be as far away from them as possible. She continued walking, not sure where she was going, ignoring the curtseys and bows nobles and servants alike gave her until she was well into the palace gardens.

She continued walking as tears welled up into her eyes and pain wretched itself in her throat. The crying began to cause nausea and with it bile began to rise in her throat. Mary bent over in her secluded place and vomited out the contents of the morning's breakfast. She cried and took gasps every time the acid escaped from her mouth until there was nothing left for her to be rid of. She continued to gag for a minute afterwards before finally calming down and staggering backwards.

She sank to the ground and sobbed her little heart out before she let herself start thinking rationally again. George had used her. He had taken her virginity for his amusement and pleasure with complete disregard for her feelings. Perhaps she was more to blame for letting her guard down and allowing a licentious pervert jump into her under linen, but she supposed the punishment was adequate.

She was not here to pursue a marriage full of mutual devotion and love. She was here for a marriage only and a marriage to save her own skin. George did not love her, but now that she had revealed to him the news, she could only hope that he would at least care about his child. If he didn't do the right thing then she would be equally as vengeful and accuse him of raping her. But that woman…

Mary clamped her fist into her mouth to keep herself from screaming out. She had not thought his betrothed would be an issue, but just seeing what Jane Parker looked like made her boil with unfounded jealousy and hatred. It had nothing to do with George, but how was she supposed to even possibly coerce him into marrying her if she had someone like Jane in the way?

Jane who was pretty and blonde. Jane who had clear skin and the deepest blue eyes to rival the seven seas. Jane who resembled the very essence of typical English beauty while she herself looked gaunt, worn out and plain. The sickness of pregnancy, uncertainty, stress and fear had taken its toll on her and she was nothing of her former self when she had been a younger maid in the prime of her youth.

Calming down, Mary wiped the tears away from her face and took her time to stand up. She needed to head back to her chamber and rest before trying on the gowns the seamstresses had commissioned for her and heading for dinner. She would deal with George later. No doubt she would see him again and she would send out a message for him to meet her and decide what to do.

Whatever happened, he just had to marry her. _He had to! _Making sure her head was held high and that her back was straight, Mary headed back to her rooms furiously hoping that her eyes betrayed no hint that she had been crying. She wanted to clean out her mouth out and just sleep away the afternoon before she entertained her father.

However there was another problem that began to creep over her like a shadow. Just what was she to do about her mother?

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><p>George sat quietly on his bed. He had been sitting there unmoving for a few hours at least. After Mary left, Jane had questioned him on why he was alone chatting with the king's daughter and he had rudely told her to leave him be because he needed to think. Reluctantly she obeyed the order and he had walked back to his rooms as stiff as a pint of wood and sat down.<p>

That was all he had done. And his head was spilling.

Mary was with child.

Mary was _with child!_

She was carrying _his _child. The cold fear ran through his body so much so that in fact he felt as if he had been dunked into a lake of ice. His fists were clenched and his mouth was dry. Somehow in the back of his mind, he _knew _this would come back to haunt him and it was only now that he really considered the severity of the situation.

The king's daughter was pregnant. Pregnant by him. She was unmarried, but pregnant by a man who was married in all but name. The king's most precious pearl was carrying the child of his wife's brother. Dear lord what had he done?

_What had he done? _

He closed his eyes and squeezed them as tight as he could as if he could banish away the memory of him plundering her holy virgin body. Why did he do it? How could he have been so stupid as not to foresee this? An aching throb started to form within his temples with all the dizzying thoughts spinning around his head and to make matters worse, there was perspiration on his head.

He wiped it away only to feel that he was in a cold sweat and unknowingly he had bit his lip so hard as to cause him to bleed. His gaze turned to the outside window and he noticed it was getting dark. He was expected in the dining hall as Anne had organized another feast in celebration of the Lady Mary's arrival. Naturally she would be there too. She had to be. It was all in her honour.

Swallowing hard, he reluctantly stood up and proceeded to make his way to the chest that contained some of his clothes. He could send word that he was ill, but no doubt his father would come storming in here demanding he suck it up and attend the king. He wanted to avoid that at all costs. What would his father think of him hiding in his dark chamber like a scared little lamb awaiting execution?

There was no choice for it. He had to go, but how could he even look her in the eye? How could he go there and pretend that nothing was wrong and act like a cordial gentlemen?

Gulping and resigning himself, George sighed and proceeded to change his hose and trousers. He was a Boleyn and a Boleyn could do anything.

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><p>Mary sat quietly next to the queen pretending to listen to her idle gossip. As far as the queen was concerned, she thought that Mary had become a compliant little maid only wishing to make a place for herself in the king's affection. While it was important to keep herself in the king's good graces, Mary's mind only rewound on one thing at this moment and that was her mother.<p>

Perhaps another month or so and she could convince the king to let her visit the rightful queen and plead with her to give up. Maybe if she was lucky she could convince the king to send her mother to a nicer place to live in tranquillity and start paying her expenses again to show everyone that he was a kind and generous king.

She only needed to start filling his head with such ideas for the next few weeks in order to convince him of her merits. And in any case by the time she reached the seventh month of her pregnancy, she planned to come forward with the deplorable news and go to her confinement in disgrace. That's if she could hide it this long and somehow convince George Boleyn to marry her. But Mary wasn't stupid. She knew she had to have a back-up plan in case he refused. It would either be accusing him of rape or finding someone she could trust to stand as her husband. Thoughtfully, she broke off some chicken from her plate and nibbled on it.

Her stomach was either doing tumbles or incredibly fussy. Some days she couldn't eat anything at all, others she had the overwhelming cravings for particular foods. Chicken was what she felt like now. Succulent chicken dripping with its own roasted juices, sweetmeats, spiced wine oh and grapes. She desired nothing else and was there anything better hot boiled stew? Her mind wandered perpetually over various foods knowing some time later the very thought of food would make her wretch.

"You look much better today," the king said to her tenderly and Mary turned to him in mild surprise. She swallowed her food and offered him a wan smile. "Indeed Your Majesty. I have much to be happy for." Her expression was thoughtful for a minute before daring to ask "how is my old governess Lady Salisbury? I haven't seen her at court."

A bit if displeasure crossed the king's face, but he answered her cordially. "She is well, but remains at her estate. Her son however has run off to Padua. A traitor." Mary was well aware of who he was talking about and dropped to subject and instead asked if there were any jousting tournaments coming up for she very much wanted to see the king joust. Enlightened by the thought, he promised that he and the queen would arrange one for the end of the week.

Mary turned her conversation to the queen praising her for the craftiness of her chosen seamstresses. All in all, Mary detested French fashions and preferred to wear tradition English garb or anything in the Spanish tastes, but this was Anne's court and she needed to fit in. Anne thanked her and suggested they go for a walk together tomorrow in one of her new gowns. Mary pretended that she wished for nothing more and concealed a snort. _Lord what fools heretics are _she thought.

While Anne chatted with the king, Mary took her chance to sweep her eyes across the room before landing them on George who was eyeing her with an unreadable expression. She narrowed her eyes at him in disgust and turned away not caring for what he thought of her rudeness. She had him trapped now and that was all that was necessary.

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><p>George sipped some wine and turned back to his plate of food. He had decided to sit away from the royal table tonight and brood over his own problems. Thomas Wyatt had kept him company for a bit going over some of his unfinished poetic works, but after finding George irrevocably unresponsive, he gave up and left.<p>

"You're awfully quiet today aren't you my boy?" His gaze turned to his father who took the seat opposite him. He smiled weakly and cleared his throat. "Got a lot on my mind." His father was not impressed and briefly turned his gaze on to the royal table where the queen was laughing at a jest that Lady Mary seemed to have said.

"What do you think of her?" Thomas asked forwardly. George raised his brow in confusion and his father frowned. "The Lady Mary I mean. What do you think of her sudden appearance at court?" He hesitated a moment and merely shrugged. "I suppose she finally realized the importance of her own insignificance and decided to worm her way back into favour," he said carefully.

Thomas chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "Perhaps, but with things so uncertain and with no prince in the cradle I beg to differ." He spared a look at the princess chatting happily with her father. Despite the fight George had had with her this morning, Mary was positively glowing with delight and she looked beautiful. He briefly remembered those smooth silky thighs wrapping around his waist and it was almost enough to make him shudder with desire.

"Do you know what I think boy? I think she is a little snake. A wolf in sheep's clothing. I think she has come back to court to ruin our plans and I would bet my life on her having supporters in the shadows waiting to make a move. Perhaps some sort of baseless attempt to poison the king with words." George's expression was impassive and he looked from his father to the Lady Mary without saying a thing.

And then it made sense. His father was wrong and he was wrong. She had not come to court to make trouble nor had she even realized let alone accepted that she was a bastard. She had come to court to save her own skin. She had come to court in order to lessen her shame and he was supposed to be the shield. George bit his lip. She wanted him to marry her to prevent her disgrace and upon thinking of the matter, he realized that in truth there was no other alternative.

But what was he to do? He was to marry Jane Parker at the end of May. "And so?" George deadpanned while shoving some food into his mouth. He did not want to be having this conversation. His father leaned closer in case there were unwanted spies eavesdropping on their small talk. "And so she is a nuisance and while she remains alive, she will always have supporters. I fear her sudden reappearance at court is the start of some mindless plot. Perhaps it would better if she was gone."

The food in George's throat nearly got caught and he quickly washed it down with some wine to keep him from having a coughing fit over his food. It took him a few moments to answer his father who was glaring at him expectantly, but the panging in his chest was hard to ignore.

"Just what are you suggesting?" He whispered.

Thomas Boleyn gave him a wicked smile and leaned in closer.

"I think it would be best if the Lady Mary died in some sort of unfortunate accident. Your uncle will be making the arrangements."

No answer.

He couldn't answer that. He only stared blankly. Nausea started to bubble in his stomach and his mouth spontaneously went as dry as wood. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His father wanted to arrange for the death of the king's daughter!

Even though he had heard Anne say it many times.

Even though he had heard his whole family pine about somehow convincing the king to arrange for Katherine's death and her daughter's.

Mary's sudden recant had changed things though.

However his father wanted her dead. He wanted her gone. Removed.

And for some strange reason, the thought of someone wanting to hurt the Lady Mary made his blood boil with rage.

Even if that someone was his own _father. _


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter is a little short, but enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>"And this will ensure her death?" Thomas said to the old lady sitting on a dusty rug. She was a fat ugly old woman with a hunchback and he thought of her as witch for indeed her eyes glinted with knowledge and she could conjure up potions. The whores of the local brothels and some women of the court used her potions to get rid of unwanted babes.<p>

The old woman cackled. "Good sir, I know my poison and no one will suspect anything. Just have a maid pour it into a wine cup before she sleeps. She'll drink, become drowsy and stop breathing. They'll find her cold as ice in the morning and her death will be a complete mystery." Thomas nodded and accepted the small vial of poison in return for a few shillings. This woman wasn't cheap and she knew her business.

However if this poison was counterfeit and in turn thwarted his plans, this old hag would reap the anger of his revenge. Carefully, he tucked the little vial away and cleared his throat. "I have another favour to ask. Do you have any sort of drink or herb that you know of that can make a woman quicken with child?"

The old woman's eyes glinted again and she gave a low chuckle. "Good sir I have the sight. You want a male on the throne? I will give you two drinks. One to make a woman quicken with child right after she has lain with a man and another to assure that the child is male. She must take that when she reaches the six month no more no less. You want a prince for England, you will get one but it will cost you a sack of gold."

Thomas chuckled and nodded. "You shall have it madam as long as my daughter falls with child again and delivers a son." The old woman mused for a bit and played with the shillings. "Someone from your family will give a son to England when she takes the drink," the old woman whispered. Thomas raised an eyebrow, but was only met with a sly smile.

* * *

><p>Chapuys could never be called someone who let anxiousness, worry and infallible concern prey on him all day all night. He was a noble, born and bred. He was the Emperor's ambassador and was well equipped when it came to dealing with frustrated and angry monarchs like the King of England and his ill-tempered whore.<p>

He never thought he would use the term 'dying of curiosity,' but he figured if he didn't get to the bottom of what the Lady Mary's agenda was soon, he would self-implode. She had only been at court but a week and any attempts he made to have a private audience were met with excuses from her few maids that she was sleeping and could not be disturbed or that she was out for a walk or with the king. Wherever he turned there was an excuse and he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was avoiding him.

Why else hadn't he run into her yet? Something wasn't right about this. She had taken the oath out of the blue and had spent many days shut away in her room, only coming out for feasting and dancing during the night. Perplexing thoughts had been eating away at him for hours on end and though he had dealt with problems much worse than this, he deeply cared for the Lady Mary. Perhaps the thought was treason, but she was like a daughter to him and he considered himself to have been a better father than hers had ever been.

That being said, he would do almost anything to protect her rights and her security. Sometimes when he was in a braver mood he could even imagine himself dying for her in a just cause. He admired her courage that much and of course her mother's, which brought him to another predicament. He didn't know what Katherine's plans were and it seemed that she planned to stall and hope for the king to come to his senses.

It was enough for them both and their supporters to see that Anne Boleyn was the cursed Jezebel when she failed to provide a son. But Katherine's stalling made him think that perhaps Mary had something planned. Feasibly it was to persuade the king to go back to Katherine or maybe the Boleyn's were stronger than he feared and had threatened the Lady Mary.

In any case he would find out what had happened. He would have to see the Lady Mary eventually but conceivably it couldn't hurt to poke around Hatfield to see if the servants knew anything. Surely they would have seen any threats or signs that Mary had been coerced into making this abominating decision.

* * *

><p>"You seem to be in a different world George," Jane said miserably as she lay next to him in a sombre mood. She was naked save for the sheet covering her lower parts. He could tell she was angry with him as he knew she was unsatisfied and frustrated with him. He had ignored her for several days and then uninvited, she had climbed into his bed and asked him to make love to her.<p>

Being a man, he couldn't resist those perfectly shaped little breasts and so he had gone into her as Abraham had used his concubine Hagar. It didn't take him long and at that point he didn't care about her pleasure. He did feel a little unmanly for using her like that and leaving her unsatisfied. He didn't want her to think of him like an ant who couldn't even navigate a woman, but his mind was too occupied to think too much of it.

It had been several days and he was still getting his thoughts wrapped around the Lady Mary. She passed him in the halls without so much as a glance or if necessary a respectful nod. She was biding her time and he could see it. She was waiting until he was ready for commitment, banishment, treachery and more. He supposed it was cordial of her to give him time to think, but he knew his time was limited. How much longer could she hide it? How much longer until he gathered up the courage to take her to a bribed priest in the local town and pay a few whores to stand as witnesses to their union?

He looked at Jane. She may be annoying, clingy and persistent, but she was beautiful, loyal, devoted and idolised him as much as Joanna the Mad had pined for her husband. She was a compliant bed mate whether he pleasured her or not and he meant the world to her. He may not _burn _for her, but he figured he could very well have been happily married to a woman like her.

But now this…

Mary was with child and she was the king's daughter. Husbandless she was shamed. Husbandless and naming him for fathering her bastard would make him a head shorter, but marrying her? The scandal would make England the laughing stock of all of Europe, but he may just yet live. The king at most could only banish them right? Or was it a no win situation with him being executed anyway?

The anxiousness and the stress he was feeling for the situation was driving him insane! And to make matters worse, he knew what he had to do. He knew what was the right thing to do, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Mary was beautiful, she was lovely and she was carrying his child, but…

He turned to Jane who was lying compliantly by his side. "I have much to think about," he replied tenderly running his fingers through her golden hair. He bit his lip. What was he to do? For one thing his father wanted Mary dead, but he would prevent that at all costs. However he could not marry his family's arch enemy.

Perhaps in hindsight, one could see the benefits of Mary being his wife and it would prevent her from ever attaining the throne once she was married into the Boleyn family. However there had to be some sort of alternative and the only one he could see was for her to leave court, give birth in secret and he could send the child to the Duchess of Lambeth as one of his bastards. It would solve a lot of problems.

"I love you George. More than anything," Jane said softly with unspeakable hope glistening in her pretty blue eyes. George swallowed hard and felt his cruel heart almost melt under them. "And I you," he whispered back and kissed her forehead. For a split moment he was sure he himself could believe it.

And that left him with a sore throat and his stomach in a twisted knot. For he knew that he was going to betray her in the highest regard. His plans for Mary to leave court and give birth in secrecy were only a fool's fallacy and he knew he would have no choice but to make her his wife.


	7. Chapter 7

Mary had spent the whole week getting closer to her father and more importantly to the queen. She hadn't mentioned her mother to the king yet, but she had gone through plans to petition with him. It kept her mind busy and off her current predicament. More importantly she spent her time around Queen Anne to avoid people who wanted to talk to her. To be more precise, her supporters within the court who wanted to take her into dark halls and ask her questions she wished to avoid.

All she wanted was to deliver this child and live in peace in the country side with a good conscience that her mother could live the rest of her life devoted to God seeing as her only heir had disgraced herself. However at least now she could enjoy the quiet tranquillity of the queen's chambers. She had been back at court just over a fortnight and because of her good behaviour, she had a small retinue of ladies and was given some of her own lands in Yorkshire.

The seamstresses had brought her some lovely gowns, skirts, shifts with more coming and they had designed them just as she had asked. They were neither suspicious nor seemed to care that she asked for something concealing and loose. It seemed they admired her for choosing a more modest approach for traditional English ladies, but of course she added some French tastes to it so as not to be out of fashion.

Sitting next to her, the queen slightly hummed and sewed from her embroidery. Mary was doing so too and in fact was making a shirt for the king just as her mother had done. The thought of it brought back bitter and sad memories. Swallowing hard she tried to push it away, but it was only replaced with reminders from her pregnancy. Every night when she took off her clothes she only saw her bump that grew larger and larger with each and every day. She had been keeping track and she was coming close to her fourth month.

Her gowns would hide it all, but they wouldn't hide the way she walked when she became closer to her time nor was she sure that they would conceal a huge bulge. It was important she married George by at least the sixth month of her pregnancy. "I must say Lady Mary you are looking much more brighter and beautiful with each passing day. I take it your health has returned to you. Court life is very becoming," the queen said cheerfully.

She sounded very genuine and it only filled Mary with mixed emotions. She didn't quite understand why Anne bothered to be kind to her. All that needed to be between them was civility, but she supposed by acting under the pretence of kindness, Anne thought she had an enemy at bay. It didn't really matter. Mary had no favourable opinions on the queen and she didn't want any sort of maternal relationship with her.

Anne Boleyn was a heretic and a snake. God had ordered his children not to throw their pearls at swine. "And you are awfully happy these days Your Majesty. Is something good going to happen?" It seemed the queen didn't detect the hidden malice behind those words and her smile only grew wider. "Indeed for I have much to be happy about," she said softly while trailing off. Her eyes lowered almost dreamily making her all the more of the regal beauty Thomas Wyatt claimed her to be.

Mary's mouth tightened into a thin line; mostly in jealously but she remained tight lipped and offered no response. And then it took her a few moments to fully register the meaning behind those words and her eyes widened. "O-Ohhhh…"

Anne lifted her head up and beamed. "I am not sure yet but all the signs are there. I pray it is true and God sends us a prince." Mary felt bile rising up in her throat which had started to be infrequent in the last couple of days and did her best to contain herself. She made the sign of the cross and muttered a slight 'amen' before putting on a fake weak smile for the queen.

"Have you told the king yet?" She inquired. Anne shook her head with her eyes modestly downcast at her embroidery. "When I am sure I will tell the king, but he sees the signs as well as I do and is only waiting for me to confirm it." Mary nodded acknowledging the fact. Another pregnancy only made her chances at the throne more dismal, but then again why was she even thinking about it?

Muttering something unintelligible under her breath, Mary returned to her embroidery.

* * *

><p>George stood in observation as the king played archery with Suffolk. Occasionally his gloved hand would trail itself into the pocket of his light spring coat and briefly squeeze the tiny gold ring within its depths. A ruby was used to mark its worth and he had had it commissioned a few days earlier. He hadn't spoken to Mary since the day of that dreadful fight, but there was nothing left to do.<p>

There would be hell to pay after this. His future looked bleak indeed. His father stepped back to meet him and inconspicuously whispered in his ear. "Anne informed me that she may be with child so there was no need for the first drink I got from that wise woman. However she'll need to have the other one. But the third one is of the most importance."

George inwardly shuddered but did his best to maintain his emotionless outward appearance. "Third one?" He inquired dubiously hoping it wasn't what he thought it was. "The poison for the Lady Mary," Thomas Boleyn whispered back almost making him flinch. An awkward silence ensured, but George knew he had to say something.

"And when do you plan to do it?" He said weakly. Thomas observed the many courtiers and the king enjoying his archery before murmuring his plans to his son. "After Anne delivers a son. Mary won't be missed and there won't be much to mourn. I think the king will see it as a burden lifted off his shoulders and Katherine of Aragon will have nothing to live for. I won't do it now if the king is displeased with Anne or she fails to deliver a son, he might turn on her with the suspicion of Mary's death. Our position is very precarious these days," Thomas mused.

George offered no reply and swallowed hard. There would be no need for the princess's death since she would be tied down in marriage to him. That was if they both survived this ordeal. His thoughts wandered over to her and her beautiful blue eyes and translucent white skin. And then he remembered their moment of passion in the dining rooms at Hatfield.

His guilt for abandoning Jane was minimal, but his guilt for impregnating the Lady Mary was worse. Sometimes he wished it was a different reality and that she wasn't really the king's daughter and just a lowly lady or a rich woman who had tumbled with him in the hay and had quickened with child. Such a scandal could have been pushed out of the way. He would have married her regardless or if not that, provided for her and their bastard.

He sighed and started going through plans in his head on how to woo the Lady Mary and propose to her. No doubt she would agree to save her own skin. "We are on the edge of a golden world," his father muttered. George silently disagreed thinking that they were much rather on the edge of fire and brimstone but who was he to question his father?

* * *

><p>Time passed slowly as George yet again watched the king and queen dine in the great hall. But for the most part his eyes were on Mary. She looked beautiful tonight as usual, but there appeared to be a warm glow seeping out of her skin making her all the more lovely. George couldn't help but smile.<p>

"You're awfully happy tonight," Jane Parker commented to him. Reluctantly George tore his eyes away from the princess and to his now _temporary _fiancée. Despite everything, he couldn't help but feel guilt and a deep aching in the back of his throat when he looked at her. He didn't love Jane at least he thought he didn't but she was a sweet and devoted woman. She didn't deserve what he was going to do to her, but what choice did he have?

"Indeed," he mused sardonically. "I have much to be happy about." He sipped his wine making sure he didn't spare a glance at the Lady Mary lest his feelings betray him. She smiled at him sweetly and stroked his palm. "Our upcoming wedding?"

It took a lot of self-control not to cough up his drink knowing exactly what the future would hold for Jane. Whatever future she was contemplating with a husband, it wouldn't be him. "Yes," he lied feeling every inch the knave his father sometimes called him. Since when had he become such a man with conscience feelings particularly about the toils of women?

_Because of your child _the inner voice told him. Because he was a man that stepped up to his responsibilities and would never abandon his own flesh and blood to oblivion like some men did. Jane clutched his hand and gave him a deep meaningful gaze and whispered "will you come to my bed tonight?"

There was a long pregnant silence. "Yes," he whispered back eventually. His voice didn't sound as soothing as he felt. "I'll be there."

That was his only resolve. Because this was goodbye.

This was the last thing he could offer Jane. One night of happiness until everything ended in demise.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Mary sat in the tranquil quietness of her room for the remainder of the evening. She had sent word that she was too ill to attend the feasting dinner tonight and had opted instead to read Utopia from Thomas More. Indeed it was a gift he had sent her the other day from the dreary loneliness of his home at The More.

Well perhaps it wasn't completely lonely. He did have his family to comfort him after his fall from favour with the king. Thinking about such injustice made her angry and she found herself clutching the book more tightly than she had anticipated.

But that wasn't the only thing that had sent her mood into perils of strange delirium from conflicting emotions. It was the little note she had received from one of the servants in the Boleyn gentry. A note from George requesting a private audience with her tonight after the king had finished dining.

She was expected to reply as soon as possible and indeed she did. Worrying thoughts had gnawed at her for days thinking that he was going to abandon her to suffer this ordeal by herself and it only increased her bouts of nausea and vomiting. George was due to arrive at the end of the hour hopefully to discuss the best course of action.

Everything depended on his decision and she did feel a little bit of relief knowing that she had been right to give him some space and let him think. Self-consciously her hand reached down to touch her stomach to feel the firm small bulge that was blossoming under her stomacher. A deep frown slightly marred the delicate contours of her face when she thought of her burden.

She still refused to think of it as another living being that would one day grow up into a complex sophisticated person like herself. She didn't even care if it was a girl or a boy nor was she entertaining thoughts of a son. There was no point. Regardless of its gender, she and her child would be disgraced anyway.

Her throat began to ache when she thought of what a dark and dismal future awaited her. She really wished it would all go away, but this was the result of her own actions and this was the only way she could serve her repentance and hope God in his infinite mercy would grant her salvation.

Closing her book and simpering to herself, Mary sat back in her chair and decided to wait until George arrived. She didn't have to wait long.

* * *

><p>William Brereton could never be called a noticeable or even popular man. His silence and unquestionable obedience to the king was what kept him in the shadows and this mysterious persona he kept of himself served his purposes most generously. It left the path of illicit and secretive information to reach his ears with easy mirth and it was one of the things he prided himself on.<p>

After returning to court for a couple of days and listening to the reports of Chapuys, general courtier observers and bribed servants, he was almost positive if not certain that the Lady Mary had been intimidated into accepting her bastardy and falsely renouncing the Catholic faith. By her general demeanour and suddenly lowly profile in the court, it was easy to see and guess.

She was rarely out and about, often ill, was cordial and polite to the king and whore at dinner but only spoke when spoken too. Usually she maintained the stance of a silent little lady contented to just waste her life away observing the court and waiting for her father to marry her off to some lowly noble. That was what he could see and he wanted to know exactly what happened when Anne visited Hatfield last. Something happened there to make the princess change her mind and he wondered what the harlot had threatened her with. Execution? Poison? Did she use a spell to bewitch the princess into accepting heresy?

So many questions to ponder with the answers themselves unexplained. Why was the Lady Mary hiding? Didn't she know that there were plenty of hidden supporters at court? Surely she knew that she could relate anything to Ambassador Chapuys…

There was definitely something dark weaving its way around the princess and it was his job to get her out of harm's way. Katherine of Aragon was making arrangements to smuggle her out of England and safely into the arms of King Charles. His duty was to inform the princess, keep an eye on her and then once the date was set, secretly get her out of the palace so they could make their way to the coast.

Easier said than done. He was sure Anne Boleyn or at least her uncle and father had spies swarming around the Princess Mary making it almost impossible for him to make contact with her without arising suspicion. The princess herself was making it harder by her inconspicuous appearances at court so he was going to have to improvise. But how?

Deep in thought he began walking down the isolated corridor and accidently bumped into a young woman along the way. At first he thought it was a servant, but he found himself staring into two pretty indigo eyes, a pale and clean surprised face followed by glossy blonde hair pulled back in a pearl beaded net. Recognition dawned in him as he recalled the familiar face from the harlot's retinue of ladies.

She was often seen with the Boleyn family was she not? And then it came to him. It was Jane Parker, George Boleyn's fiancée. "Pardon me my lady," he said with a slight bow. The woman flushed and smoothed down her gown. "I apologize Sir William. I was not watching where I was going," she said quietly perhaps slightly mortified at the situation. His expression was stone cold but not intentionally.

"It is no problem," he conceded as he studied her with shrewd diligence. "I hear you are to be married soon." Jane seemed slightly bewildered by him talking to her since he quite frankly never spoke with anyone, but was flattered all the same. "Yes sire. In about a month's time." He nodded acknowledging the fact and wished her well.

"Pass on my regards to the queen and the Lady Mary. I must say I do not spend my time with the other young nobles in the queen's chamber very much these days so please pay my compliments to them." Unsure of what to say to that, Jane simply nodded and continued down the corridor. The Parker's were originally strict Catholics.

It was a shame her father was selling his soul and his daughter's into heresy and damnation all for the riches of this world. Still though…he had found her…quite pretty.

Which was definitely saying something as he never focused on the tempting sin of Eve in any sense.

* * *

><p>"George," Mary greeted cordially as one of her ladies showed him in. Jane Seymour as she recalled. "I'm glad you could come," she said with a smile but her voice held no warmth at all. Mary dismissed Mistress Seymour and offered George a seat to which he sat in wordlessly. His expression was surprisingly soft and Mary offered him some wine. He took great big gulps which in turn caused Mary to conceal a snarl of disgust.<p>

"How are you feeling?" He whispered to her with mixed emotions making it impossible for her to decipher his meanings. "Good," she said shortly. George frowned and rubbed his temples. "No problems? You're healthy? The child is fine? Have you seen a physician?" Her surprise at his supposed grace of concern was enough to mar her features, but she was not about to treat him with over-formality.

"I can't exactly see a physician now can I George?" He was taken aback slightly by the hidden rudeness in the tone, but said nothing. Why was he even asking stupid questions? "How far along are you now?" He opted instead. Mary licked her lips and touched her growing stomach that was concealed under her high waistline gowns and bodice. "Almost four months I should think. The child should be due sometime in autumn."

He relaxed back in his chair and sighed. He looked defeated. "That doesn't leave us much time," he whispered knowing full well what she expected him to do. "No it doesn't," she agreed half-heartedly. George was silent for several awkward moments before swallowing hard and deciding to get down to business. "If we marry, how do you think we should go about revealing this information to the king and queen?"

She glared at him like he was an Olympic class idiot at the same time wounding his masculine pride and ego. That was one of the things about her that sent him on edge. Even though her life and reputation was all but destroyed, she still kept her head high, refused to admit defeat and successfully made everyone around her feel like inferior dogs beneath her feet.

"I suspect shortly after we marry we will request a private audience with them and reveal what we have done. I can't conceal this pregnancy for much longer nor am I free to leave court and give birth in secret. We can't avoid a scandal but we can lessen the damage and punishment. If we marry and this child is born in wedlock I suspect we'll just be banished if worse comes to worse."

It made sense, but leaving everything up to the king's unpredictable behaviour was risking a lot. George could very well find his head on a block married to Lady Mary or not and if her life was also in possible forfeit, he wouldn't put it past her to turn on him claiming rape and forced marriage. However since she was with child no punishments could really be inflicted on her.

It was a no win situation but was it really possible that Mary would turn on him? They had lain together after all and he did have feelings quelling in the deep pits of his heart for her in some form of sympathetic affection. "We're going to be married for life," he said flatly in a subliminal attempt to remind her that once they were wedded, she would be tied to the Boleyn family forever.

"I know that," she deadpanned and poured herself some mulled wine carefully avoiding his gaze. "It's just that…" he paused trying to think of the right words to say. "You're going to be the mother of my child and my wife. We are both going to suffer and lose our reputations when the king hears of this so I just want to know if…" he hesitated.

"If?" She encouraged impatiently. George sighed. "If we can trust each other. I suppose things are not ideal with us right now, but perhaps in the future things can be better between us?" The desperation to find a companion and friend in her was shocking to say the least, but she understood. Once her father pronounced his verdict, they would likely be banished and stripped of their titles with minimal wages to live on. They would only have each other and for the sake of their child and their survival, they had to learn to live together agreeably.

"Yes it will have to be and perhaps one day when our child is grown up and if we ever come back into favour again, we may laugh at this. The risk we took, the stupidity," she replied a little more optimistic but she doubted there would be such a future in their marriage. She hated the Boleyns' with every inch of her being. She didn't care how much she enjoyed George Boleyn's kisses or his touches or the pleasure he had awakened in her when they laid together. Carnal desires meant nothing.

She would just play her part and hope her child would grow up a God-fearing Catholic and perhaps one day claim the throne if such a thing was possible. George smiled at her and patted her hand before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the ring he had commissioned for her.

Gingerly, he placed it into her hand so that she could scrutinize its design. "Rubies," she muttered and inwardly scoffed at the irony of having a ruby as the stone on her ring. Rubies signified the virtuous woman and she had lost her virtue and dignity long ago. "Is this your fiancé's ring?" She asked dubiously.

George widened his eyes and shook his head. "Of course not," he said though gritted teeth. _What kind of man do you take me for? _Pondering on the thought, he saw how hypocritical it was anyway. It was blatantly obvious what she thought of him at the present moment. "It's lovely," she whispered and slipped the ring on her pale finger. It looked good on her.

"But I think I'll wear it around my neck now to avoid suspicion until the king knows of our predicament," she resolved standing up and heading to her dresser to attach it to a lonesome golden chain. George smiled weakly knowing his own plain golden ring he had commissioned for himself was still untouched in his room…next to the two rings that were meant to be for him and Jane. Those would remain untouched for eternity.

"There is a priest in town I know who will marry us. I'll make the arrangements so we can be married within the week without anyone knowing." She briefly spared him a glance and nodded. Knowing there wasn't much else to say, George stood up to take his leave but stopped for a moment to gaze at her.

"Mary," he breathed in an effort to assure her that he would never abandon her despite what would inevitably happen to their court life. "Yes?"

He bit his lip and walked up to her. "I just wanted to let you know that whatever happens…that you will always have a friend and companion in me. I never meant for this to happen, but the best we can do is right the wrongs isn't it?" She stared at him warily and her mouth formed into a thin line, but she nodded nonetheless. "I suppose so."

Caressing her cheek with his thumb and smiling down at her, George moved forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Perhaps things won't turn out so bad," he said hopefully. Mary's expression was unreadable and she merely curtseyed and bid him good bye.

Well no one could say George wasn't trying. He could very well understand the Lady Mary's rigid attitude and paranoia. They were walking on eggshells. With nothing else to do, George left her chamber, nodded to her ladies who thought he was here on the queen's behalf and headed back to his rooms.

Later tonight he was to visit Jane in her rooms secretly and commence his last act of love in the form of a farewell. Whether or not she would understand this wasn't exactly important. Jane would find out his treachery soon enough.


	9. Chapter 9

There was a constant fluttering in Mary's stomach this morning. It wasn't a nauseating feeling, but rather something that made her jumpy and agitated. She was paranoid. Paranoid beyond belief. And she had many reasons to be.

George had sent her a message which had to be burned as physical correspondence with her twice in a week would arouse too much speculation. However she couldn't help the nagging feeling it brought her thinking that before she was safe in wedlock, someone would discover her treachery and report it to the king.

_Be calm _she told herself.

_Breathe._

Easier said than done. George was going to sneak her out tomorrow night to wed in the secret room of a tavern decorated with godly icons to make their ceremony valid. Two whores would be their witnesses and Mary did not like that idea at all. Strangely enough it irked her that George knew these whores and had quite possibly laid with them.

Why did she even care? She didn't…just plainly didn't. But the thoughts did spiral around in the back of her mind and though she refused to admit it, it pained her to think of George with another woman. Mary swallowed hard.

_Why am I thinking about this?_

Did it even matter? They were going to be married and most likely exiled after news of her pregnancy spread around so the chances of George becoming smitten with another woman were dismal indeed. She would be the only woman around. Surprisingly it lightened her mood and when she realized what these thoughts represented, she felt sick with disgust.

How could she ever let herself become jealous over George Boleyn? Such a notion brought on a strong sense of self-loathing. She did not love George Boleyn. She did not care about George Boleyn.

He was nothing more than cannon fodder to lessen the outrage and scandal that would encompass her reputation. That was his only purpose. It was no business of hers what he did in his spare time and she didn't care to know. It was bad enough that she was going to be married into the Boleyn family let alone allow herself to _feel _for one of them.

Sighing she contented herself with one of the translated Psalm books her governess Lady Salisbury had given her one Christmas-Tide many years ago. She was little more than a girl then. Contented with happy memories of the past, Mary mentally prepared herself for the task at hand. Once she was married to George there was only the matter of revealing it to the king.

There were a range of options to consider. One was telling Cromwell and he would relay the matter to the king, the other was telling the queen which seemed the lesser of two evils. Anne herself was with child and perhaps would intercede on their behalf to lessen the rage of the king when he found out. After all, she was going to be her new sister in law as irksome as that sounded. Brooding over the matter, Marry immersed herself in David's psalms in an effort to give herself strength.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean she was unusually ill?" Chapuys said to the young scullery maid who cringed at his harsh tone. The maid hesitated a moment before explaining again. "The Lady Mary's health was always weak ever since she came here, but after a visit from Sir George Boleyn, she was very sad and depressed. Even more so after his particular visit. It affected her physically and she was constantly vomiting, fatigued, ill and very weak. Even to get out of bed."<p>

He listened intently and it only confirmed his fears. George had said or done something or to her to make her accept her bastardy. Nodding he thanked the young maid for her information and gave her a gold coin. She accepted it wordlessly and watched with heavy trepidation in her heart as he left.

She did not tell Chapuys the sounds she heard coming from the room that Mary and George were in together alone nor did she reveal to him the bloodstain on Mary's under linen when she went to scrub her clothes. She was smart enough not to tell Chapuys what she really thought happened in that room or what was really happening with her behaviour. It was better for her to have no opinion on anything if she wanted to save her neck.

* * *

><p>The streets were quiet as the two of them ventured out. She in a simple grey gown with no designs with a black cape and hood to hide her identity. George was dressed quite simple himself as he led her out attempting to be as inconspicuous as he could. Mary hoped that they had gotten out of the palace undetected. The court was going to move to Greenwich in a few weeks as the weather was starting to get quite warm. It was the beginning of May after all.<p>

"We're almost there," George muttered quietly as he turned the corner. Mary offered no reply. In fact they had seldom spoken more than ten words to each other when he came to retrieve her. However she could tell that George was as nervous as she was. His hand felt warm and clammy and she was sure hers was just the same. Finally the tavern came into view and George let her in and quickly ushered her past the drunken rabble, up some stairs and through the back door where already there was a priest in waiting along with some surprisingly clean looking women (the whores?) and a young boy no older than twelve she did not recognize.

"Ah you're here, good," the priest said carefully concealing whatever reservations he felt about such an illegal marriage. Mary frowned when George handed the priest a purse of money which he carefully obscured in his robes. A marriage conducted by a corrupted Lutheran priest! Could she have stooped any lower? Remembering the child in her belly she knew she had.

Inwardly sighing to herself, she took her place beside George and knelt down. They avoided looking at each other when the priest began the prayers although Mary threw some suspicious glances at their 'witnesses.' Her suspicions were cut short through when the Priest addressed them and they were forced to stand up and face each other as well as hold hands.

'Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God in Paradise, and into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, by God's Law, or the Laws of the Realm; let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.'

There was silence. Mary half wished someone would speak out and stop this madness, but the Priest continued on.

'I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, that ye confess it. For ye be well assured, that so many as be coupled together otherwise than God's Word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their Matrimony lawful.'

Neither of them protested although George shifted uncomfortably. Mary looked at him peculiarly and realized as to why he had suddenly become so frigid. He was betrothed to another woman after all. Was he feeling guilty about that? Why did it upset her so?

'George Edward Boleyn, Wilt thou have this Woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?'

George didn't even hesitate. "I will," he said gruffly, his voice ringing out strong and clear.

'Mary Rose Tudor, Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?'

Swallowing hard she answered although her voice was unconfident…nothing more than the breadth of a whisper. "I will."

George's hand clasped tighter around hers and Mary knew this was it. This was where they would say their formal vowels and she would be duty bound to him for the rest of her life. A heavy price to pay for her misdeeds, but it was her only penance.

'I, George Edward Boleyn take thee Mary Rose Tudor to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, for fairer or fouler, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us depart, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereunto I plight thee my troth.'

Mary swallowed hard again and took the chance to stare up into his intense green brown eyes. He wasn't cold or resentful. She couldn't actually describe the mixed emotions in his face and it left her speechless until the priest cleared his throat signalling her to say her part. Taking a deep breath, Mary said her vow.

'I Mary Rose Tudor take thee George Edward Boleyn to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to be bonny and buxom at bed and at board, to love and to cherish, till death us depart, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereunto I plight thee my troth.'

Her throat felt dry and she felt like she had uttered the utmost betrayal. Strangely it felt worse pledging her obedience to this man than falling pregnant with his child. George presented the rings. A golden ring encasing a red ruby. The sign of a virtuous woman. She could almost scoff at the irony.

'With this Ring I thee wed, and with my body I thee honour, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow; In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.'

With that said and with the ring on her finger, Mary realized she was now a married woman. The priest continued with his blessings reminding them of the faithfulness of Rebecca and Isaac and invoking the Lord before George leaned over her and placed a light innocent kiss on her lips. The two whores and the boy clapped and the priest finished with his blessings.

Mary waited quietly as George and the priest had a few words before he turned to her smiling and lead her out of the room. "Are you hungry Mary?" He asked sweetly. Her mouth thinned into a thin line. She had this overwhelming sense of exhaustion and wanted nothing more than to lie in her bed.

"No," was her reply. George didn't press the matter as he turned them through the streets while their shoes tapped lightly against the cobble stones. "You…do not want to celebrate at all? Some wine perhaps?" She refrained herself from making a nasty retort. Why was he pretending to be nice to her? She said she would give him her trust and that they would learn to live together, but nothing more.

"I am very tired George and it is better not to be out too long. I would rather avoid suspicion and besides…" she paused considering the type of future that was ahead of them both. "I think we will have plenty of time to drink wine together when we are banished from court," she surmised. George considered her for a few moments before nodding grimly.

"May I touch your stomach?" That made her stop dead in her tracks, but when she looked at his face he was deadly serious. Feeling a little resentful, she glared at him. "There is nothing to touch or feel. I may be showing a little under these skirts but there is nothing worth touching," she said cruelly. George didn't press the matter and started walking ahead of her.

When they got to the palace he helped her sneak into the halls until she told him she could make her own way from there. "Mary," he said softly staring at her with an expression she couldn't quite pin point. "I would never let anything bad happen to you. Remember that."

Before she could say something, he turned away and it was too risky to call out to him. Instead she simply stood there dumbfounded.

_Why? _She wanted to ask.

_Why?_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Mary bent over and vomited into her bucket. The vomiting was becoming less frequent, but at four months with child, she still wasn't immune to the vomiting. However she supposed it was mostly nerves that were making her sick. Touching the very prominent bump hidden within the confines of her heavy gown, Mary frowned and swallowed hard.

Cleaning her mouth out with some water, she examined herself in front of the mirror and bit her lip. The skirts may be thick and layered but the bodice still went over the stomach and the curve was beginning to show. It was like her stomach had suddenly popped out in a matter of days. Suddenly paranoid with fear at being discovered, May hastily loosened the gown and raised the stomacher and bodice up higher so the skirts could conceal her sin. She had better dresses to wear of course that did the job of hiding the pregnancy, but it was May day and she was specifically supposed to wear this gown.

A gift from the queen. It was emerald green, made of silk and taffeta with gold patterning and lining. French style that showed an ample amount of cleavage, however she had raised the dress enough to conceal her cleavage and 'bump' without looking ridiculous or strange. Nevertheless the fear dwelling inside her refused to die down. The dresses the seamstresses had made for her were good, but wouldn't conceal such a thing after another month. Mary was sure of it. Her plans to wait another few months would be met short it seemed.

There was no way she could hide this under her gowns for so long. Sighing and running her fingers through her hair, Mary knew she and George would have to arrange another meeting to reveal their crime to the King. It wasn't like George could stick around at court much longer himself. He was to be married to Jane Parker at the end of the month. What they needed was a few days before they came forward and bared the brunt of the King's rage and anger.

Unconsciously, Mary's hand reached over to the golden chain around her neck and she clutched the wedding ring that was attached to it. She didn't know what motivated her to do such a thing, but she felt as if the ring would give her strength. Sighing, she put the chain back into the depths of her bodice and turned away from the mirror. Women like her got their strength from love. There were many like her that had married men without permission because they were pregnant and managed to live a life of peace after they were banished, but that was where their similarities ended.

Those women had love and were loved in return. Mary had neither. Despite George's strange behaviour previous night's ago, she didn't think for a moment that he cared for her and was only hoping to save his own neck. Nor did she love him in return. No, not at all. So what strength did she have to draw upon? She didn't love her child, she didn't love the man who gave her this unwanted sin incarnate so she supposed all she had left was her faith.

Simpering to herself, Mary headed to her outer chambers to meet her two ladies in waiting. A gift from the king. Mistress Jane Seymour was one and a Lady Eleanor Lucas was another. Mary had heard the queen had foisted this sultry eyed woman on to her because of a rumoured affair with the king, but the enemy of her enemy was most likely her ally so who was she to complain?

"I'm ready to go," she said coldly and swished around to head into the great hall. The King and Queen had prepared a grand feast in the gardens, dancing, music, entertainment from jesters and jousting for the May day celebrations, although Mary suspected most of it was in celebration for the queen's recently acknowledged pregnancy. Something that set her teeth on edge. But she had to remind herself that any hopes she had for the throne were lost at this point.

* * *

><p>George sat in the stands next to his father with Jane flanking his other side. She clapped and cheered as she watched the lesser nobles joust and gave her opinions and bets on who would win. George only listened absentmindedly though he felt numb inside. His attention constantly flickered over to Mary sitting near the king and the Duchess of Suffolk and for reasons unexplained he couldn't take his eyes off her.<p>

Maybe it was because he married her a few days ago or maybe it was because she was carrying his child, but she was starting to look more and more beautiful each time he saw her. Even his sister the queen had remarked that the Lady Mary seemed to be thriving, putting on lazy happy weight, gaining colour in her cheeks and having an exotic vibe in her blue grey eyes. His sister's perception of Mary was correct in every sense, but the compliments from the queen made his father sneer in disgust.

"I see you are starting to perceive what a threat she is," his father whispered to him once he noticed that he was staring at the Lady. George straightened up making sure Jane was occupied with the Percy and Seymour that were about to joust before he answered. "Yes," he whispered back in relief. It was a good thing his father had mistaken his emotions. "I am trying to convince Anne to have her sent away from court under the pretence that she should study or for her health. I was thinking of having her housed with the Sheltons' where she will be out of the way until I can deal with her, but Anne foolishly believes this poisonous snake is reconciled to her position in life. Women! Bah!"

He offered no reply and merely nodded on the matter, but before he could tear his eyes away from the Lady Mary, he found that she was staring right back at him with a questioning look. He couldn't quite read the mixed feelings in her expression, but he nodded to her respectfully to avoid any suspicions and turned away. Jane was staring at him with pursed lips. "What?" he questioned in annoyance.

She narrowed her eyes and stared past him which suddenly made his heart beat faster until she stared at him again. "Why did you nod at the Lady Mary?" She inquired sharply. George supressed a sigh and shrugged. Lady Mary, Lady Mary, Lady Mary. Did they not have something else to criticize? "She was looking this way and as a lady of high rank I must nod to her Jane," he said in a careless tone. His father was right in some regards. _Women! _

She didn't seem convinced, but nodded anyway and let the matter drop.

Most of the courtiers had decided to dance half way during the feasts although George noticed that the Lady Mary carefully and very self-consciously sat and observed the spectacle with a fake smile plastered on her face. His widowed sister Lady Carey was kindly sharing a few words with her to which she was cordially replying, but George was overcome with this sudden passionate urge to talk to her. He even wanted to dance with her.

However knowing how odd it would look and what a dangerous position it would put them in, he refrained and sufficed to observe her from afar. The day was long and warm and George himself got carried away drinking and feasting. However when most of the courtiers decided to return to the palace for when the night became cold, Mary walked passed him and quickly mumbled "come to my chambers around midnight. It is important." He watched wordlessly as she walked ahead with her ladies as if she hadn't uttered a word to him

But he was not about to disobey her.

Kissing Jane quickly on the cheek, he split away to follow the king and queen to the main dining hall for dinner striking up a conversation with Mark Smeaton and his music before attending to the king. All throughout the night his thoughts circulated around Mary and it took a great deal of self-control not to gaze at her. Mary took her leave when she had feasted enough and went to her chamber. It was a few more hours before George would be allowed to go there and even so he would have to do it inconspicuously.

Seeing that his presence was no longer required, he left the dining hall unaware that his fiancé's curious and calculating eyes followed him all the way out. He spent the greater portion of the night sitting on his bed contemplating the whole situation with him and his new wife before wondering what Mary wanted to speak to him about. Was it the baby? Had something happened? The thoughts spiralled around perpetually until he decided that he couldn't wait any longer. It was almost time to see her anyway.

Grabbing his cloak, George left his chamber and proceeded to make his was to Lady Mary's rooms hoping no one would recognize him or question as to why he was there. He knocked on her chamber doors to see Mistress Seymour open it with a quizzical look. She was dressed in her night shift with a hastily tossed on robe to cover herself. "Sir George Boleyn," she said in surprise or rather irritation. He took an instant dislike to her. "Mistress Seymour I apologize for the inconvenience but the Lady Mary requested by presence for an important matter."

She eyed him suspiciously renewing all feelings of dislike for her again. "At this hour?" She said in disbelief. He nodded, inwardly chastising himself for not using the servant's passages. He was under the notion that Mary herself would have answered the door. "Just a minute," Jane Seymour said, shutting the door to announce his arrival to her mistress. She came back a few moments later and let him in. "You are in luck. Lady Mary was just reading and said you had something to discuss with her about the queen," she said quietly paving way for him to enter. He wasn't even inclined to dignify her remark with a response and made his way into Mary's privy chamber.

Surprisingly she was still dressed in her gown and was lamenting over one of Thomas More's works. Utopia to be more precise and he briefly wondered if that book itself was decreed or considered heresy. "Ahh Sir George," Mary said with perfect indifference. "You have come to help me choose a gift for the queen. Forgive the late hour Jane, but Sir George was occupied and could not come at a more appropriate time. You may leave us and go to your bed." Offering no protest, Jane did a slight curtsey and left the two of them in privacy.

Mary beckoned him to take a seat and asked him if he wanted some wine. He refused and cleared his throat. "What is it Mary?" he questioned with the heat of concern in his voice. She hesitated a moment and licked her lips. "I'm starting to show," she said. He raised a brow at her. Was that all? She glared at him for his masculine idiocy and elaborated further. "I am starting to show a lot George. My belly is becoming quite prominent. After all I am four months with child and give or take a few weeks I do not think any of the gowns I have at my disposal will cover it up. They are too tight to wear already and even my walk is starting to turn into a waddle. People are going to notice so I think we need to discuss what we should do."

He gazed at her for several moments as he digested her words. He wanted to see her belly but the rest of her body was hidden beneath the table. She already looked plumper for some weeks now, but he supposed to everyone else, it was the return of her health. He bit his lip and began to think of what to do. "How do you wish to proceed?" He said, weakly hoping her ideas would be better than his own. Her expression was grim, but she proposed her plan to him as calmly and coherently as she could.

"I plan to tell the king soon, this can't wait," she said and he nodded. She frowned and let out a deep sigh. "Within the week George," she said in annoyance. Why were his perception skills so slow tonight? He froze for a minute and his eyes went wide. "Y-you want to tell him this week?" he said with a gulp. She nodded and glared at him severely though he offered no complaint. Instead he slumped his shoulders like a man defeated and it almost made Mary sympathize with him. _Almost. _

"What choice do I have?" She argued hoping he would be man enough not to abandon her because she had every intention of accusing him of rape if he did. He stayed silent and merely nodded. What else could he do? She was right. Their choices were very limited. "I'll be the one to have to do it you know," she said quietly earning her a peculiar stare. "My rank as the King's daughter means I will be the one to tell him the news. It has to be me so that they can't accuse you of blackmail or seduction."

George shifted uncomfortably at her words. The latter he was clearly guilty of but neither of them had any desire to reveal it. "Just know that I'll be by your side Mary. I won't forsake you or abandon you no matter what they do to me." She looked at him in contempt as if she didn't believe his words and it caused a painful ache in his heart. "They might send you to the tower," she whispered. "Before they release you for either banishment or exile." _Or execution _she failed to add. He gave her another sad smile, but she did not return it. "Our options are either to tell the King himself, or have a mediator inform him. The only options are Cromwell or the queen." _Or even Brandon? _She thought. George scratched his head when he considered this and decided Cromwell was an option he definitely did not want to consider. "The queen would intercede on our behalf," he agreed, but he continued "however she is with child and it might be too great a stress to reveal such a thing."

"She will find out anyway," Mary deadpanned becoming impatient with his foolishness. George glared at her sharply, but telling Anne was not an option either. Finding out after they were both gone would be better as otherwise the king would think she had something to do with it. God knows, despite being with child, the King was showing signs of boredom with her and until she gave him a son, her position would never be secure.

"Yes but there is only so much we can do. Our only option is to tell the king himself I believe." She frowned and gave him a long hard look before relenting. "Very well. The court is proceeding to Hampton next week. When shall I tell him?" He thrummed his fingers on the oak table as he considered. What was the point in waiting?

"As soon as possible," he demanded more than suggested. Mary raised her brows. "As soon as possible?" She echoed almost in terror, but quickly composed herself. Silence ensured over the room. "Very well," she conceded knowing that there was no other option before them. "I will tell him tomorrow morning," she resolved as if that would be enough to muster up her strength.

George reached over and brushed her hand with his fingertips. When she didn't recoil he clasped his hand around hers reassuringly although he was as scared as she was. "I will take care of you," he whispered. And for the first time in weeks, her mouth twitched up into a bland smile that really did reflect her feelings. It was nice and for a split moment, George felt that he was finally getting through to her.

* * *

><p>As soon as sunlight shone through the windows of her room, Mary stepped out of bed keeping her robe wrapped around herself to hide her curves and hastily got into one of her best gowns. She did not let her ladies help her into her dress, only fasten the clothing and nothing more. It was just too risky. Just on cue, Lady Eleanor entered the room followed by Mistress Seymour and a simple maid. Mary smiled at them and ordered Lady Eleanor to place her hair in a pearl net while Mistress Seymour laced up her gown and her maid doused her hands in rose water and scrubbed her face.<p>

Mary had chosen a gown of sapphire blue for the day with pearls as the jewels to go with it. Her golden chain with her wedding ring was still concealed in her bodice and it brought her some security being close to her heart. She wanted to see the king before breakfast and inform him of the news. She was ready for his rebuke and whatever consequences came with it. It was nothing more than the beginning of the end.

Stating to her surprised ladies that she was going to visit the king, they followed her without question through the halls to his chambers. Everyone bowed to her, acknowledging her importance at court until she stood in front of the groom of the king's chamber. "I am here to see the king," Mary said coldly leaving no room for protest. She had mustered up all this courage and she was not going to back down now.

The groom hesitated but announced her arrival into his chambers. The king was sitting at his desk, thankfully alone mulling over some new religious decrees. "Mary," he said in surprise as the groom announced her arrival. She swallowed hard as the king stared at her expectantly. _Breathe _she told herself. "I request a private audience with Your Grace," she replied,her voice quavering a little. She was sure her legs were shaking because the king appeared to notice.

"A private audience," he resonated in concern and gave a look for the groom and her ladies to be dismissed. "What is it Mary?" He said while pouring some wine to which she was not going to drink. She hesitated a moment and took a deep breath.

_God don't fail me now _she said to herself.

"Father," she said in a voice stronger than she felt. She was not going to leave room for him to question her.

"I have married a man…and I am with child."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

When Anne left her chambers that morning, she had sensed that there was something odd in the air and indeed she was right. Courtiers had lined the halls and were gossiping in excitement, worry and curiosity. The atmosphere in the room was just enough to make her self-implode. What on earth was going on? "Nan?" She questioned asking her lady to find out what was happening before the king led her to mass. Nan didn't even have to ask anything as a helpful page boy bowed and in hushed whispers told the queen the scene. "The Lady Mary visited the king this morning and barely fifteen minutes later she was led out by guards and confined to her rooms. Then the king shouted at the guards to proceed to arrest Sir George Boleyn Your Majesty."

Anne paled. George arrested? Mary confined to her rooms? Just what was going on? "Ladies," Anne said hastily making her way through the hall as the courtiers quickly moved out of her way in humble bows and whispers. The groom permitted her entry straight away and she was greeted with the site of Henry assembling the members of his privy council and shouting at them, namely her father the Earl of Wiltshire.

She quickly dismissed her ladies and Henry turned to her, his expression was fierce. "What happened Henry? Why has my brother been arrested?" She said angrily. She refused to be intimidated by him. "I'll tell you what happened," Henry spat. His voice full of venom. "Your brother has committed an abominable act of the worst kind. Treason! He has married my daughter and she is with child!" Anne took several moments to register this fact and she went numb with shock. Subconsciously, her hand went down to touch her belly and Henry remembering that she was with child, calmed himself down and ordered the grooms to get her a seat.

He took a deep breath and glared at the members of his Privy Council. "How did any of this happen? Right under our noses? My daughter and the brother of the queen frolicking in bed like two bloody farm animals, marrying without permission and siring a child! You expect me to believe no one had a clue about this?" He shouted focusing his glare on Cromwell this time. Cromwell gulped, but not even his spy network had picked up on such a thing. There wasn't even a hint that the Lady Mary and George Boleyn had any feelings for each other and were visiting…

"They kept it well concealed it seems," Charles Brandon intervened earning him a glare from the king. He went silent fearing the next thing he said would inevitably cause an outburst. The queen was sitting motionlessly in her chair as if she couldn't believe the news herself. "Concealed? She informed me that she was four months pregnant and even showed me the ring he gave her in marriage and the documentation. They married on his last visit to Hatfield in January!" He yelled. How could Mary do this to him?

"You expect me to believe that no one witnessed anything of these events?" Cromwell hesitated for a moment. "Perhaps no one expected it Your Majesty hence we were not able to see. No one thought the Lady Mary was capable of such a thing let alone consider marrying the queen's brother." The king deliberated this for a moment and then slammed his fist on to the table making the queen flinch. "Get out! All of you. Cromwell, Brandon and Boleyn you three stay." He didn't ask the queen to leave, but the rest of the Privy Council did and when they were safety out, Henry took a seat next to Anne and glared at his three advisors.

"What is to be done?" He asked. There was a few moments of hesitation before Cromwell cleared his throat. "If they are indeed married then the damage has already been done. I suppose it's best to lessen the scandal. It isn't so bad is it? The Lady Mary has married the queen's brother and will remain close to the family." It was true. It wasn't as bad as it sounded, but the fact that they had married in secret months ago unannounced and that she was with child as well as with no royal permission was what made it worse. And he had never thought his pearl; his Mary Tudor was capable of such lewd conduct.

But as he reflected further, this meant that Mary was tied to the Boleyn family, married to a man of high rank of which he could be elevated and her marriage binding could possibly silence Katherine and the Pope for good. "They will have to be punished. No doubt I cannot forgive a transgression so lightly. I will banish them from court for a year and then perhaps offer my pardon. This is my daughter after all and the queen's brother," Henry said softly looking at the queen. Anne gave him a grim smile.

The atmosphere in the room subsided a little until Anne decided to interject. The shock that her brother had married the Lady Mary had hit her hard, but as the king was mulling over the facts with his advisors, she realized what a _favour _he had done for them all and that perhaps Lady Mary did not really resent her family as much as the rumours suggested. Perhaps that was why she had been so respectful and cordial to her at court if not just to be with George.

"There is the matter of Mistress Parker," she said flatly thinking of what a shock and insult this would be to Jane Parker's family. Henry nodded gravely and clicked his tongue in an effort to think of what to do. "We will have to find someone else for her to marry to placate her family. I will make the arrangements. But Cromwell I want you to question George Boleyn as to exactly what transpired and Brandon you question the Lady Mary…" he paused for a minute. "But be kind with her, she is with child."

Truth be told, as angry and mortified as he was of the situation, his love for his daughter made him consider her condition. At least she had married. Brandon nodded and finally the king turned to Thomas Boleyn. "What do you think if this Wiltshire?" The man was taken aback for a second but quickly composed himself and cleared his throat. "I am appalled Your Majesty at the vanity and idiocy of my son to defy the natural order. Humiliated even. I myself am to blame I think for not being more aware of my son's wanton actions and letting such a courting escalate right under my very nose."

Henry nodded before turning to the queen who had a tear running down her cheek. She held his hand and sniffed. "Please do not be too harsh on my brother. He has loved and served you and despite his transgression it seems that he loves the Lady Mary enough to risk the wrath of his family and of you. Perhaps we can consolidate ourselves with the fact that the Lady Mary married first, to my brother and not someone lowly and will have a husband who will love and care for her," she insisted. Henry hesitated for a moment, but he was more than inclined to believe her. Although she had done a great wrong and defied his laws, she had married and to someone noble of his council…his brother in law no less. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

"Very well. Continue with the questioning. Cromwell you will need to inform the Parker's of this matter and assure them I will find a husband for their daughter and tomorrow I will have them banished from court. They can head to Rochford for the year since she is now technically the Lady of the estate," he said dryly making sure he treaded carefully. He did not want to upset Anne, but had it been anyone else there would have been hell to pay.

"Once you have established all the facts, I will have an audience with them in front of the Privy Council tomorrow and they will be banished from court." He decided that banishment was as far as he would go at this stage. He wouldn't fine them and he would let Mary give birth to her child in the country side until the scandal died down and they could return to court. Mary would have to serve as the queen's lady in waiting instead. With this plan conjured up in his head, Henry dismissed the council and turned to Anne. They had a lot of discuss.

* * *

><p>Mary sat quietly on one of the chairs in her rooms gently caressing her small swelling belly. Only Mistress Seymour was in attendance and she sat by her with feigned patience and began to sew to pass the time. His reaction was as she expected if not worse and he had certainly been incredibly angry. He had called her a whore and shook her like a rag doll screaming 'what have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!' Her thought had eventually wandered over to George and strangely enough she was extremely worried about him. Would he be taken to the tower? Would the king be cruel enough to go ahead with execution? Surely he would not. Her aunt had married Charles in secret and even though she had died over a year ago, the king had forgiven them after a hefty fine and a period of exile.<p>

Surely he would implement the same precedence on herself and George? It must have been a few hours of mindless waiting before the guards walked in along with the Duke of Suffolk. As kind as his expression was, Mary couldn't help the coiling feeling of fear well up in her stomach. What had the king decided? "Lady Mary," The duke began, his voice soft and full of pity. She looked up with a guarded expression being careful not to reveal anything she felt and replied "my lord?"

The duke took a deep breath making sure his voice was clear. "His Majesty has decreed that you and your husband are to be banished from court until His Majesty sees it fit to forgive you. Whether or not you'll incur a fine depends on His Majesty's willingness to extend his forgiveness and mercy. I am here now to listen to the facts regarding the supposed courting of yourself and Sir George Boleyn and the validity of your marriage."

Mary was silent for several moments and then bid Charles to take a seat. George and her had rehearsed what they were going to say to keep their stories similar. She only hoped they wouldn't bother searching in depth, the background of the priest that married them lest they find out that they were in fact only married barely a week ago and not in January. "Very well my lord. What is it that you wish to ask me?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I know this chapter is short. Perhaps Henry's reaction isn't as bad as it should be but because Anne is with child and Mary has married her brother and tied to the Boleyn family, her claim to the throne seems dismal indeed! Review please :D<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

It was raining the next morning as she set foot on to the stone steps. She wondered if the sky was weeping for her, but it seemed unlikely. It was just a rainy day. Her jewels and gowns had been packed away in their chests and already loaded on to the carriages that were to take them to Rochford.

The king had given them a public humiliation in front of the Privy Council, bellowing at them for defying his policy and acting unchastely in defiance of religious law. Reflecting on these accusations she found it rather ironic coming from her father a notorious adulterer, but he was a man and the king. He could do whatever he wanted.

The only relief out of this was that she didn't have to dress uncomfortably and watch the way she walked. Her belly was forming and could be seen slightly through her clothing. She no longer had to hide it. Giving an unsure look at George who smiled back to her, she took a step forward and looped her arm in the crook of his.

The footman held open the carriage doors and helped Mary in. George followed and after a few shouts for orders here and there, they were on the move. For the first few minutes they sat in awkward silence until George decided to break it. "Everything should be alright," he whispered to her. She turned her head to him in acknowledgment and returned to staring back out through the window.

"My sister still sends her support and love…for the both of us." Mary hesitated a moment and gave a light sigh. "Yes that is all well and good," she mumbled and paused for a minute. "They seemed to have let us off a bit too lightly don't you think?" It was clear from the careless expression in his gaze that he didn't hear the slight malice in her voice. Indeed she herself didn't understand the fluctuating feelings of her own heart, but some part of her wanted George to be punished…a little.

The other part was relieved he was free though. Free with her and not disgraced. Whether if it was because it saved her own reputation or because of her unacknowledged feelings for him, Mary didn't know. "I suppose," he ventured thinking carefully. "Perchance it was my sister's intervention that saved us from anything more serious. I do hope she will be alright without me at court."

Mary resisted the urge to scoff. "She has Lady Carey with her does she not?" George shrugged. "I don't know how long that will last. Father wants her remarried but I suppose _Marianne _will remain with her until she has delivered England a son."

_God forbid _Mary thought. She hoped it was another girl. Touching her belly and deciding to divert the topic a little, Mary opted to ask him about what he called his sisters. "Is Marianne a show of affection for Lady Mary Carey?" He grinned and nodded reaching out to pat her belly. "Yes. It is something only I call them though. I called the queen Annie or Annemarie sometimes. Of course I can no longer do that," he said almost mournfully.

Mary briefly wondered if Anne had banished her own brother from calling her such names ever since she was crowned queen. A feat that seemed very likely. "I was thinking of calling you my Mary Rose," he said bashfully hoping she wouldn't be too offended. When she gave him a thin bland smile, his confidence grew a little. "My pretty English Rose," he added.

After a moment's hesitation Mary smiled. "I wouldn't mind being called Rose," she decided seeing as she was nothing more than a Lord's wife. George smiled at her. "Rose it is then." And he leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips. Mary let him finding herself quite enjoying it despite the misgivings she felt in her head. "Besides," George added for the effect of comfort. "You are not the first woman this has happened to so you need not feel too guilty."

Mary nodded idly knowing full well what he was talking about. "My aunt Princess Margaret did it, but her punishment as well as her husband's was much worse," she agreed. She contemplated for a little longer. "So did my one of my greater grandmothers Catherine of Valois." He patted her hand. "We'll live through this."

_You can, but can I? My resolve was stronger before, but what if there is indeed some small chance of me taking my rightful place on the throne? _

She knew she needed to banish such thoughts from her head and spend the rest of her life in repentance, but still she couldn't help herself.

What if there was a way where she could truly become Queen of England?

* * *

><p>Jane sat frozen on the chair her father had made her sit on. Her mother was on the verge of tears, but all Jane felt was numbness. She wasn't sure how much time had passed and it was clear her father wanted her to say something-anything to ease the tension, but what was there to say? She could scarcely believe it herself.<p>

"He's married?" She said again incredulously making her father scowl in irritation. "Yes married. Without royal permission to the Lady Mary Tudor. She is with child so they say and the king has banished them from court. But what I want to know is how this all happened? You were at his side all the time. No doubt you proved yourself worthy of the Boleyn family and then your future husband seduces a lady of royal blood right under your very nose? You never noticed anything?"

Jane swallowed hard feeling the numbness melt away leaving her left with only pain. She felt a heavy aching in her throat and the loud thumping of her heart. He had married someone else. But why? Why? He had said he loved her. Loved her above all things…

"I-I didn't notice anything. He was with me during the day all the time unless he was on business." _And at night. _Her father grunted feeling little pity for his daughter and snapped at his wife to keep her sobbing woes to herself. "At any rate because you were too foolish to notice your own betrothed rutting with the Lady Mary like two doxies in a stable, such an advantageous match is now forever lost. The king assured me he will consider another marriage for you, but I doubt it would come even close to what we had before."

Jane said nothing. Only pressed her closed fist against her bosom. Having nothing more to say to his daughter, he stormed angrily out of the room shouting for his teary eyed wife to follow. Wordlessly her Lady Mother followed his footsteps leaving Jane alone to cry over her grief by herself. When the door to her room shut and she was left alone, it was there that Jane sank to her knees and whaled.

It wasn't until many hours later in the dead of the night that Jane composed herself and went by the fire. A maid had come in to light a fire and leave her some food, but Jane's appetite had long since gone. Haggard and feeling groggy, Jane began to undress herself or if there was an onlooker, rip her clothes off in a furious rage. Viciously she tore at the fabric of her gown as she desperately tried to take it off her until she was left completely naked and standing motionless. Then slowly she turned around as if in a hypnotized state and locked the wooden door of her room and then trotted over to the rug near her bed.

With blinded fury she threw the rug aside and opened the loose floorboards and pulled out a silver jewelled box. Within it was a dagger engraved with a skull and some writings in Hebrew. A gift from her grandmother who had taught her everything she needed to know should she find it useful to use the dark arts to get what she wanted. Slashing her hands, but barely flinching in pain, she began to use her own blood to create a circle and with it Hebrew signs of the twelve tribes. She sat in the centre of the circle, trembling, white faced and sweating.

"Oh gifts of the ancient ones," she chanted in Latin. "Hear your daughter and eternal servant crying out to you. Extend forth your left hand and grant me revenge and henceforth my soul shall belong eternally to you. Enter my womb and fill your poison into the child within my belly so that he may act out your divine deed. I curse George Boleyn to suffer unspeakable horrors. I curse the Lady Mary to lose her child in the most abominable way. I implore you to place bareness on the throne of England and to bring ruin to the Boleyn family and the King of England."

She slammed her bloodstained hands down on to the floorboards and stared into the fireplace, which blazed brightly. "Show me what I must do," she crooned. The fire suddenly expelled with intensity and the atmosphere of the room dropped by several degrees. But Jane saw what she needed to see in the fire and laughed in her madness. "Then my soul is yours," she whispered and licked the blood off her hands.

* * *

><p>Mary was sitting by the window sewing a little bonnet for her baby when she felt it kick again. At over five months with child and spending over a month resting in the beautiful house of Rochford, Mary's health and beauty began to flourish. She found that she was quite contented with this quiet life out here in the country where neither the malice of queens nor the scorn of kings could get her.<p>

George although being a tentative and loving husband to her had thus far failed to get any romantic feelings out of her other than frank politeness. He dismissed it as her foul mood due to pregnancy, but Mary did not want to let her feelings get the better of her and although she found her heart warming up to him day by day, she didn't trust herself to reveal it to him.

Weeks went by and Mary's belly grew. News came from the queen that Lady Carey had been banished from court for marrying a man without royal permission and a low one at that. Her pensions had been cut off and she and her husband William Stafford had been exiled from England altogether. They were now living at Calais.

Whatever reservations George felt about the matter, he didn't show it to his wife thinking she didn't need anything to worry about. Mary inwardly scoffed at that. She and Lady Carey had barely talked or known each other nor did Mary have a high opinion of her. She had heard the woman was the personal slut of King Francis and even her father when she was a child.

"Will you miss her though? She was your baby sister…" Mary offered wondering what George's reaction would be. He hesitated a moment and then sighed. He looked almost defeated. "I suppose, but I have you comfort me now don't I? My Mary Rose?" She blushed and looked away determined not to let him see how hard she had fallen for him. It went against everything she stood for. "I suppose you do," she muttered and continued eating her lunch of cold meat, bread and cheese.

That night as she undressed for bed, she noticed that there were cards left on her table. As she went to inspect, she felt a deep reckoning in her heart. The three cards were of three monarchs. Henry with Anne and Katherine on either side except Anne's card had a slash through the neck. Feeling uneasy, Mary's eyes turned to the letter above them and realized that it was from her mother.

Queen Katherine.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know the Jane Parker Satanist Witch Bitch may seem a little off, but I personally see her as someone who would consort with dark things to have her way. She was quite a bitter character (not that I blame her) in fiction and fact.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

_Dear Mary_

_The news of your situation has reached my ears and I will not speculate on the turn of these current events until I have confirmation from you on what exactly happened. In light of such a predicament it is my duty to inform you that I will not fail you, but nothing much can be done until you have delivered yourself of your burden. I will send Lady Elizabeth Darrel to accompany you and your household of Rochford to be of comfort to you during your pregnancy and childbirth. It will be easier for correspondence this way. You can tell your husband upon her arrival that she is a good friend of yours and for your health insist that she be at your side. Have courage my daughter, the true princess of England. Burn the letter when you finish reading it._

_Yours Truly_

_Katherine the Queen. _

Mary swallowed hard as she read over its contents feeling conflicting emotions rise within her. She was glad that her mother had written to her and didn't appear to be angry, but what would happen once her mother learned the truth? Wouldn't that only add to her sorrows? She had thus far failed to convince the king to send her Lady Mother to more comfortable lodgings and now that she herself was out of favour, there was nothing much she could do for her mother.

But Mary couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to read between the lines. Her mother was planning something, but what? What could she possibly do now? Her fate was sealed…

Or was it? At this point in time, Mary didn't want to think about it. Obediently she threw her mother's letter in the fireplace and watched with sadness as it burnt. However a cold dark feeling ran up her spine, which in turn made her stomach feel like a bottomless pit. As if she was not carrying a child at all. Who had brought the letter here and more importantly these cards?

As much as she hated Anne Boleyn it was still a daunting prospect to receive hints of her death especially when they came from her own mother. Sighing and deciding she was making a big deal out of nothing, Mary threw the cards into the fire and watched wordlessly as they burned.

* * *

><p>Katherine sat quietly at the oak table as she received Ambassador Chapuys into her presence. She gave him a weak smile as he bowed to her. The king felt it was no threat for Chapuys to see her privately now it seemed, since her daughter and the very pride she lived on was now married to a Boleyn. "Eustace," Katherine said coolly making sure she kept her true emotions in check. The news had hit her hard and it had taken her a long time to compose herself and think of what to do.<p>

"Your Majesty," he greeted back. "What news have you heard of my daughter?" She pleaded hoping he had gotten hold of any bit of idle gossip. He gave her a dry look. "Not much other than she is perfectly healthy and living with George Boleyn at Rochford," he paused for a moment and then whispered to her in Spanish.

"There are rumours going around in Kent and the North that the Lady Mary was forced to marry against her will. Some are even saying that George Boleyn raped her whenever he visited Hatfield." Katherine bit her lip and thrummed her fingers against the table. The thought of her daughter being dishonoured like that sent a stab of pain through her heart and it was most likely true, but for the sake of the throne, Mary would have to deny it. "Even so we will side with the reasoning that Mary married George of her own free will being seduced with promises of freedom from her dreary state at Hatfield." God knows, the world was still a cruel place for women. A woman who had been raped would never be able to take queenship-even the Pope would consider her corrupt.

Chapuys nodded accepting the fact. "The plans to have her taken to Spain will have to wait until after she has had her child. It matters not who her husband is now. He just needs to be moved out of the way so she can become a widower and claim the throne with a child already in the cradle." The Ambassador assessed the risks involved and the consequences if they failed, but for the sanctity of the Catholic Church, it had to be done.

"William Brereton is still at court and has wedded Jane Parker. The king arranged the match so maybe she had some idea as to what was going on, but we will have to wait and see." Katherine nodded and her expression became thoughtful. "When is the harlot's child due?" She questioned not at all pleased to find out that Anne was with child again. "Early next year Your Majesty."

Katherine frowned, but Anne was a little problem in the scheme of things. Once the king had been overwhelmed by the army she was planning to muster up, he would merely be a puppet king with her pulling the strings. Anne would be sent away to a nunnery or executed and Henry would have to recant and turn to the truth. It was the only way to save England and Henry's immortal soul because now she was quite convinced that he had gone mad. Anne had bewitched him and it was up to his true wife to set things right.

"Whatever happens it is of the most importance that Mary becomes queen, but that cannot happen while she is still married to a Boleyn."

* * *

><p>Mary had informed her husband that Lady Elizabeth Darrel had come to wait on her during childbirth and although a bit suspicious, he had agreed wholeheartedly to allowing Lady Elizabeth to stay. It was perfectly normal to have a few ladies wait upon an expecting woman but since being banished Mary hadn't given much thought to it other than the presence of midwives. No doubt having a friend of her mother's here to comfort her especially in the horrific hours of childbirth would be a blessing.<p>

So that was why she was standing at the front of the doors of Rochford hall, content to greet Lady Darrel herself. Dressed in a light blue gown with the bodice loosened to comfort her large belly, Mary smiled in the gentle heat of the June sun as she saw the small carriage make its way to the front gates of her new home. Her maidservants looked upon her with concern not thinking it right for a pregnant noble woman to be dawdling about in the sun to greet a woman of lesser rank.

Mary could scarcely care about their opinions when there was no one to care about her actions now. She was a banished and disgraced princess so there was no need to give too much thought to courtly etiquette and propriety. "Lady Darrel," she greeted warmly as the lady herself was led out of the carriage by one of the Boleyn grooms.

"Lady Rochford!" Elizabeth exclaimed but curtseyed down to her as if she was still a princess of the blood. Being well aware that the male Boleyn servants would most likely report this to their satanic master, Mary bid the woman to rise and linked her arm with hers to lead her inside. The servants began to unload Lady Darrel's belongings.

"I am so glad you have come," Mary whispered to her passionately and Elizabeth squeezed her hand. "I am more than ready to do the queen's bidding and honoured to serve her daughter, the Princess of Wales," she whispered back. Mary could not conceal the warm feeling that began to rise within her heart. At long last she finally had a true friend with her.

Mary took her to her chambers and ordered the servants to bring wine, sweetmeats, bread and cheese for them to munch on while they caught up. This was her mother's most loyal companion, but Mary found herself quite awed by her natural beauty. Curly blonde hair, blue-grey eyes and a sweet pale face. A true English beauty.

"How is my mother?" She questioned in earnest wondering what news there was of the true Queen of England. "Despite her age, healthy and strong and still as ever…determined." A shadow of guilt crossed Mary's face, but she quickly replaced it with a look of cordial politeness. "God speed," she whispered knowing full well it was her brazen actions at Hatfield that had put a hindrance to her mother's plans.

"She bids you to be of good cheer and not to forget who you are," Elizabeth said in a more serious tone. Mary inwardly cringed at the words knowing on several occasions she had betrayed her true position with fantasies of being a simple Lady living in peace with her Lord in the country side. Not able to think of a good enough reply, Mary mindlessly sipped some wine and wondered what the future would hold for her, her mother and her child.

Later that night, Elizabeth joined her and George for dinner and although he was a little hostile to the woman knowing her allegiance, for the sake of his wife, he spoke to her politely. But Mary was not impressed. She saw no reason or cause to be hostile to a woman who had scrubbed the floors of her mother's house like a common scullery maid because the king would not send them any money.

And so when she said she would return to her bed chambers later, leaving Elizabeth alone to undress and prepare for bed, Mary marched straight to George's room (they normally slept together but now she would be sharing her bed with Lady Darrel) and glared at him. "What?" He said mirthlessly not in the mood for a fight with his angry pregnant wife. Although she was not the cause of his current ill humour, he did not see what had given her offence.

"Must you be so condescending to anything and anyone associated with my mother?" She hissed at him. He stared back at her listlessly realizing that Mary had seen right through his cordial façade. "I kept my feelings in check didn't I? For your sake I didn't say or do anything to displease the lady and I see no reason for you to come here and bother me about it."

Though taken aback by his harsh rebuke, it did not faze her. "Why George? I have given everything up to be with you over this…this…_accident _ and you still mistrust me?" He turned away from her and proceeded to dress himself into his night clothes. "It is not you I mistrust," he said quietly but audible enough for her to hear. Mary narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists.

"Is it so wrong of my mother locked away in some terrible house at the More to send me a lady for comfort in my time of need?" George bit his lip. When Mary put it that way, she made Katherine seem like a sorrowful mother pining for her daughter, but he was not stupid. He knew very well that the Spanish Infanta was deceptive to the last breath using her wits and education to spin toils around men and he couldn't help but feel Elizabeth Darrel's appearance was a bad omen. She was Katherine's most loyal servant after all.

"No there is nothing wrong with it," he conceded not wanting to upset the perfect harmony he had worked so hard to bring between them. "I am sorry to have given you offence _my lady _and that of your companion. Forgive me." Though surprised by his willingness to support her view, Mary didn't push the matter but rather wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in the curve of his back.

"Thank you," she whispered to him. He was still for several moments, but reached down to caress her hands. However his mind was still occupied. Mark Smeaton who had agreed to keep correspondence with him about things at court and any other tid bits of information had added on the side that Jane Parker had gotten married. And it was so soon.

Knowing her father it seemed she had been foisted off to the next available gentleman and George couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He didn't know what was wrong with him really. Ever since he had lain with Mary and then found out she was with child he had seemed to develop more of a conscience these days.

For someone who was a selfish greedy Boleyn perhaps it wasn't a bad thing.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

While the summer heat showed no signs of disintegrating, Mary prepared for her lying in. It was the early days of August, but she felt tired enough and big enough to rest for the next couple of weeks. George was more than supportive wanting her to be well cared for so he grit his teeth and allowed Lady Darrel to demand what was needed.

Not much news came from the court since the both of them were all but isolated and Lady Darrel had nothing extra to say about the health or wellbeing of her mother. Mary supposed there was nothing to do but wait for the clemency of the king. Despite the strange letter her mother had sent her, Mary terribly wanted Queen Katherine to hold her grandchild in her arms. She was sure it would bring the queen much joy even if that child was fathered by a Boleyn.

She winced when she saw how dark and bear the room was, but she would have to bear it. "You'll visit me?" She said hopefully to George. He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. "Of course," he said tenderly touching her large round stomach. "Please God you'll be safe," he muttered hoping that God would listen to his prayers even though he was seldom one to pray. She smiled back and headed into the room.

Lady Elizabeth Darrel followed sparing him an apathetic glance, which he thought was quite malicious. It was amazing enough that she could snub him in his own house let alone have loyalty to Katherine of Aragon. However he realized the necessity for Mary to have a female companion during her labour which reminded him…

He needed to write to his sister. Perhaps the king had mellowed out and he could ask them to send a midwife for Mary. She was the king's daughter after all. And so began to tedious weeks of waiting for the child to be born. Much to his delight, Anne answered his letter saying that the king agreed (despite his anger at them both) that for Mary's safety they would send a good midwife.

Her name was Sarah Jones, a porky woman with a gruff face. She had neither beauty nor wit, but she was intelligent enough in women's matters. Mary reluctantly let the woman attend her and although strict, making sure Mary ate proper meals and rested, she was kind inside. Anne was able to keep in contact with him saying that the king's anger had curbed and in due time they would be allowed back at court, but they would have to beg for forgiveness.

He brought this news to Mary when he visited her, but she remained indifferent. He made no comment about it, but she would have to return to court as his wife and serve the queen. "Don't be so dull Mary Rose," he chided playfully. She did not take the bait. George sighed. "Think of it this way. Perhaps you can convince the king to show some kindness towards your mother and have her placed in more…suitable conditions."

He knew this was a risky topic to bring up, but she definitely had it in her power to help the Princess Dowager since Katherine was no longer considered a threat. She narrowed her eyes at him as she considered this and gave up with a shrug. "I suppose you're right," she said not wanting to argue or break the peaceful atmosphere she had been keeping with him for months.

He patted her knee and gave her an encouraging grin. His hand then moved to her large swollen stomach and he rubbed it tenderly.

* * *

><p>Jane Boleyn now Lady Brereton attended the queen in sardonic silence. Now six months with child although claiming four, an air of a motherly glow had come about her. And God knows she was anything but motherly. The queen was with child too although she had not taken to her bed yet. Jane guessed she was probably about as far along as the Lady Mary or perhaps less. She gritted her teeth in anger. The very thought of that bitch was enough to make her retch.<p>

William although a kind husband was very rigid and barely spoke to her. He spent most of his time at his prie dieu praying as devout as Katherine of Aragon herself. The extent of his faith was as such to forbid him pleasures of the marriage bed in which he heaved and grunted into her for less than a minute and muttered prayers when he had finished. She had told him she suspected she was with child barely a month after their wedding. It kept him away from her for it was sin to lie with a pregnant woman (she scoffed at that) and believed to be detrimental to the child. She was glad for it.

He was fool enough to believe it even though this child had been sired by George before their marriage. It was only luck that her father had brokered the marriage so fast and she was more than inclined to agree. Now she spent the rest of her time quietly and patiently plotting her revenge to bring down the throne of England and all those who had shamed her. The Boleyn family in particular and that slut who had stolen her lover.

But where to start? Those of the underworld had showed her where she must strike first and that was at the very thing growing in Anne's belly. She would make the queen miscarry and leave her at the wrath of the king. However she needed the means to do it. Pursing her lips together, she picked up the tray of wine and goblets and took it to Anne's presence chamber to serve guests, but was fortunate enough to stumble upon the hushed voices of Thomas Boleyn and Norfolk near the queen's privy chamber.

"I have a drink that will ensure it is a boy. She took it already but there is still some left."

"Then save it because even if she bears the king a son, she will have to bear more to ease his fears on the security of the throne."

"And the poison?"

"It clearly is no longer needed for Mary Tudor. She has married your son and once she has delivered her child, the king intends to bring them back to court and forgive them. Perhaps he will bestow upon George some pensions or lands. Maybe even a new title. After all, his actions have prevented Mary from attaining the throne by tying her to us as well as Katherine's hopes and dreams of a Spaniard rule."

There was a brief pause as Thomas Boleyn considered Norfolk's words.

"Then I suppose I shall keep the poison for when it is needed."

"As long as it is safely hidden. Where did you conceal it?"

"Hidden within my pillow case. I know it can be easily found if I was ever arrested on suspicion of treason but it is definitely not a future I can foresee," Thomas Boleyn said with a chuckle.

"One can never be too careful," reprimanded his brother in law and left it at that. Jane kept to her hidden spot behind the curtain. Now she knew what to do.

And it would all start with Anne.

* * *

><p>August was at an end, but the heat was merciless. Sitting in a darkened room with no fresh air wasn't helping the situation and Mary finally put her foot down and commanded Elizabeth Darrel to open a window. She did so reluctantly giving Sarah Jones a withering look. There wasn't much of a breeze to help the situation so Mary sighed and ordered it closed.<p>

Elizabeth suggested coming out of her gown and simply staying in the light sheer material of her night shift for the day. A feat Mary was all to inclined to agree too. While Elizabeth unlaced her stomacher and helped her out of her skirts and bodice, Sarah Jones went and poured her some water. Mary had found it rather odd, but the midwife was adamant that water was better than wine.

"Keeps away the thirst," she had insisted.

Mary sighed and allowed Lady Darrel to slip her night shift over her head and brush her hair. Kindly enough, Lady Darrel plaited it tightly and wrapped it on her head to give her some comfort. "Come now back to bed," the midwife ushered although Mary was restless. Elizabeth suggested they do some sewing and Mary supposed they had nothing better to do. However it seemed all they ever did these days was sew.

As time passed and with the soothing sound of Elizabeth's singing, Mary soon found herself with heavy eyes and a drooping head. Perhaps she would sleep the day away.

It was late in the evening when she began to groan in her sleep. Lady Darrel had gone to retrieve Mary's dinner from one of the servants and Sarah Jones had fallen asleep in her chair. Another loud groan filled the room though it did not stir the midwife. Waking up in a sweat, Mary took a few moments to become fully awake only to realize she was felt wet. In fact she felt completely drenched.

She threw off the light sheet from her body and rolled over to find that indeed the wetness had sunken into the straw filled mattress. For a split moment Mary wondered if she had wet herself while she slept until she felt a strange tightening in her stomach. Clutching it and gritting her teeth, Mary felt her fists clench of their own accord. Her knuckles were white. The movement seemed to have awakened the midwife who immediately jumped from her seat.

"Lady Rochford?" She said coming over to the bed to see what was wrong. Mary panted for a moment until the pain passed and swallowed hard. "The sheets a wet," she said dimly, but the look on Sarah's face was enough to tell her all.

She was in labour.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Mary gritted her teeth and clutched the sheets of the bed as she felt another wave of pain slam against her belly. The pain wasn't as such to have her screaming yet, but it did elicit moans of pain from her. She was already sweating and panting hard.

"You need to stop fighting it. The baby will not be coming for hours yet until your body is ready so you need to relax mistress," Sarah Jones said to her in an irritated voice. Mary stared at her incredulously and used her sleeve to wipe the sweat off her forehead. Elizabeth took the cue and dabbed at her skin with a wet cloth. "H-how many h-hours c-c-can this pos-ssibly go for?"

She tried to rest back against the pillows but found the position to be quite uncomfortable. Sarah Jones was hardly sympathetic and patted her head. "It is going to get much worse than this my lady. You need to be strong." Mary swallowed hard and clutched the tiny jewelled cross in her hand and prayed. Prayed for God to deliver her from this burden safe and sound and that her child would be healthy.

For she had much to fear, thinking of her mother and all her failed pregnancies. Lady Elizabeth prayed with her and one of the servants left the room, no doubt to keep George updated. Mary tried taking deep breaths and found that they calmed her a little, but that didn't take away the fear or the reluctance to face the next wave of pain.

Closing her eyes and clutching the sheets, Mary did her best to contain herself, but found that her pain gave way. She screamed. The ropes attached to the headboard were helpfully placed in her hands so that she could pull at them as her body lurched itself in the act of birth. She wasn't sure how much time had gone by as she cried out in agony, but she knew she was being torn from the inside out.

In between cries and spasms, Mary vomited and even begged God to kill her and release her from such agony. "Push my lady. You're almost there," Sarah Jones encouraged, her hands placed between Mary's legs to catch the head. She gripped the ropes, arched her back and pushed with a pained cry and felt something slip from her body. Then all was deathly silent until the cry of a new born pierced the air.

"Wah! Wah!" Mary held a breath and cocked her exhausted head to the side to catch a glimpse of the screaming new born in Sarah Jones's arms. "God be praised!" Elizabeth said clutching her hand tightly and removing some sweat soaked hair out of her face. "God be praised Your Majesty! You have delivered a healthy baby boy!"

No one remarked on Elizabeth's slip of the tongue. It seemed to matter little. All of their focus was on the baby whom was having the blood and fluids washed off his little body. _A son _Mary thought. _I have a son. _

"I want to hold him," she declared reaching out to take hold of the boy. Sarah smiled at her, quickly wrapped him in a white cloth and gingerly placed the child in Mary's arms. He was still crying and Mary rocked him until he began to quieten down. "Someone should inform his Lordship," one of the servants said. Elizabeth threw her an irritated look, but nodded her consent.

"He's so small," Mary remarked admiring his perfect, but tiny hands. Sarah Jones hummed in agreement. "What will you call him my lady?" Mary looked down at the baby in her arms and he looked back up at her with curious eyes. Almost as if to say 'who is this?' She thought for a moment. Did she really want to give him the name of Kings? No she preferred something more exotic. Something brave coupled with royalty. It didn't take long for her to decide.

"Owen," she said quietly as she stroked his soft light brown hair. "Owen Arthur Tu…" she stopped herself. Though her son had Tudor blood in his veins, due to her marriage he could not take the Tudor name. She bit her lip numbly thinking about the poisonous name he would have to take. Despite her and George coming to terms with their predicament and having much affection for each other, it still didn't change the fact that his witch of a sister had usurped her mother's position.

She sighed. "Owen Arthur Boleyn."

* * *

><p>"What are you reading?" The king said to Anne tenderly when he walked in upon her sitting alone in her privy chamber. "A letter from George. It's only a few sentences long. He must have sent it in a hurry." The king narrowed his eyes a little. By all rights, George and Mary were banished and were forbidden correspondence until he granted clemency. He knew George sent updates to Anne now and then and he hadn't minded, but he could not forgive a trespass so easily. He did intend to in the future perhaps after their son was born, but he preferred the matter to stay where it was for now.<p>

It wasn't that he wanted to keep his pregnant daughter in exile forever, but the fact that she married without royal consent, fell with child and concealed it for so long was abominable. If he forgave her so soon it would send the wrong message to the court and his duty as a father to discipline or abandon such a scandalous and immoral child.

"Mary has delivered a son," Anne whispered with a voice full of mixed emotions. Henry immediately came to her side in deep interest. _He had a grandson! _ "Is he healthy?" He managed to ask. "Seems so. They have named him Owen," she said in surprise. Henry gritted his teeth marvelling at the irony. Naming their child after the Tudor who had seduced a queen into marrying him. _Hah _he thought.

"Are you going to forgive them any time soon? George writes that Mary is anxious and wishes very much for you to see her son." Henry swallowed hard feeling a dull ache in his throat. "Perhaps I will invite them to court for Christmas Tide. Mary needs a few months to recover I am sure. Would it make you happy if I forgave them then my love?"

Anne gave him a weak smile. "It would. I very much wish I could attend the christening of my new nephew and I would like to see my brother again. But Mary needs her father and a friend at court which I would be happy to be." The king smiled and kissed her forehead while placing his hand on her swollen pregnant stomach. "Then your wish is my command."

She pressed a gentle kiss on his lips and he sat with her for several minutes talking to her about the new policies to be under taken in regards to the reformation of the church. Anne occasionally gave her opinion, but refused to allow herself to get worked up over anything she didn't agree with. It was all for the sake of the child. She had to deliver a son. Only when a son was born would she be truly safe.

Besides she didn't have to worry about Katherine or Mary anymore. The King's daughter was now kin and appeared to be happily married to her brother with a child in the cradle. Anne was adamant to placate her and to be her friend at court once she was forgiven of course. In fact she planned to suggest, not even that, demand that George be elevated in rank and given more money and land along with his wife. Mary was the king's daughter after all and the child of Spanish princes. Anne intended she had all the wealth befitting of such a rank to soothe her injured feelings.

She was sure Mary would forgive her. After all she had been so kind to her during her short time at court and being married to George might convince her that Anne never intended to ill wish her completely. She simply wanted acknowledgement as the king's new wife. Henry kissed her cheek and left her to bed, but Anne decided to sit by the fire for a few more moments and contemplate. With Mary securely stuck in wedlock within her family, Katherine of Aragon had nothing to play for. Her own daughter had seen to that.

So all in all Anne had really nothing to worry about. Nether the less, she couldn't help but have these occasional feelings of foreboding. As if something could go terribly wrong. She didn't know why such feelings bothered her so, but she reasoned that it was more to do with her paranoia. The people still hated her and her position was still far from safe.

"My Lady," piped Jane Parker sweetly by the door. Though she had been betrothed to George, she didn't appear to be too upset by his unfaithful elopement with another woman. She had been married off quite quickly and was now with child so Anne supposed there was no need to complain. "What is it Jane?" Anne said indifferently.

Her lady in waiting hesitated for a moment. "Since it appears you are not tired, I thought you might like some mulled wine for yourself and the baby." Surprised by her thoughtfulness even though such servitude was expected, Anne gestured her over and allowed Jane to pour her some drink. "And how are faring Lady Brereton? Is your child healthy?" Jane smiled back to her sweetly. "My physician tells me so and I feel it quickening in my womb. God willing it will be a strong healthy baby," she said while giving Anne her goblet.

The queen smiled at her and sipped the wine all the while oblivious to Jane's peculiar stare and the wicked curling of her lips into a feral grin. "Is there anything else Your Majesty requires?" Anne shook her head and dismissed her from her presence. Jane walked out coolly and casually, but with her heart racing. It would all start tonight.

Eventually Anne did retire to bed to get some sleep and she fell asleep easily. However sweat began to perspire over her physical form and she began to moan in her sleep. Blood began to seep and soak within the sheets from between her legs and the moaning began to quieten down into gasping breaths. She couldn't wake up despite the physical reactions of her body.

The gasping continued for some time until they became barely audible and then silent. Only the sound of the crackling fire was heard in the room until the dawn when it all but smouldered to death within the logs. Nan was the first to check on the queen noticing the lack of movement or breathing from the queen's little form. She was unbelievably pale too.

"Your Majesty?" Nan said to her quietly while giving her a little nudge. Her body was cold. Nan froze in shock as her mind began to process as to what was happening or in other words what had happened. "My lady?" She said more urgently and removed the covers from Anne's sleeping form only to find the white linen sheets and Anne's night shift drenched in sweat and blood.

A loud scream was heard by the courtiers waiting outside the queen's chamber.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

"The whore is dead," Chapuys said to Katherine in concealed triumph. However, it seemed that the queen already knew. She looked at her hands within her lap in deep contemplation. "This is most extraordinary news. How did she die?" She said gesturing to a servant to pour them some wine. They needn't fear her since the maid was a loyal companion and couldn't understand the Spanish tongue.

"In childbirth. She fell into labour in her sleep and the child slipped from her womb. Stillborn. A girl." Katherine raised her brow. "Again?" She said in mild interest. If Anne did give birth to a girl again then all hell would break loose. The last thing the king needed was anymore _girls. _But in the end it mattered not. Anne was dead.

Even though the fire was burning, the cold winds of early October were beginning to settle in. "The king?" Katherine asked although her voice held no trace of emotion. "Much aggrieved," he whispered back and leaned in closer. "Wiltshire is trying to keep this news from you for various reasons, but I finally managed to get word from Lady Darrel. The princess gave birth to a healthy baby boy over a month ago. They have named him Owen."

Katherine closed her eyes and squeezed them tight. "A son," she whispered. England finally had its heir. That was the news she had been waiting for all these long months. Now she could finally act. "Then we must move while the king is still occupied in his grieving. Correspondence with Elizabeth will now have to be more frequent. The child and my daughter must be taken to Spain until all is well here. The army I have mustered up will be marching next year."

She paused, anticipating on what to do next. "We must inform Mary," she said, but surprisingly Chapuys shook his head. Katherine raised a dubious brow. "What? What is it?" The Ambassador hesitated, but knew that it had to be said no matter what. All hope with Mary was lost. The saviour of the realm was in the hands of her son.

"Forgive me Your Majesty for what I must say and may God forgive me if what I have said is a mistake," he said breathlessly. He saw Katherine's knuckles whiten as she clutched the handles of her chair. Chapuys sucked in some air and told the queen the frank and brutal truth.

"I spent my time talking to servants in Hatfield. It was hard to get it out of her at first, but she was the maid waiting on Princess Mary and George Boleyn when he came to visit back in January. Oddly, George and the princess went walking in the gardens and then sat down to have lunch together. He dismissed all the servants except the maid was still outside the doors and she could hear…"

Chapuys's mouth felt dry. It was unbelievable to his own ears, but after what Elizabeth had told him of Mary's relationship with George, the notion seemed all the more plausible. "She could hear Princess Mary's moans coming from the chambers."

He dared look into the queen's eyes then and as he expected he saw disbelief in them. However, she had turned several shades whiter than before. "I didn't believe it at first. I asked the maid if it were possible he was raping the princess, but she insisted that they were," he paused, "both acting in carnal sin willingly."

For several moments, Katherine sat their stunned. It couldn't be! Her only daughter had willingly eloped with George Boleyn? It hds not been the greedy plot of that Harlot to snatch up the King's daughter and keep her within the family?

"It can't be…" She whispered, her heart tearing into two. Her only daughter. The one person Katherine was giving up everything to fight for.

"I am afraid it is so Your Majesty."

Katherine squeezed her eyes shut.

"Just what are you trying to say?"

Chapuys bit his bottom lip and crossed himself.

"I am saying that the princess cannot be trusted. It is no fault of hers. She has been seduced by the devil and enticed by their witchcraft. She needs to be away from them to come to her senses again. She can be saved, but only once the Boleyn's are destroyed. However she is, but a woman. Powerless and must yield to her husband. George is a heretic and will teach his heresy to that child. That child can be saved my queen. That child is the hope of England."

Katherine's mouth went dry. Her heart yearned and pined to save her only daughter, but it seemed Mary had been taken control of by the devil. She would set her daughter right and make her queen. However Katherine didn't know how much damage had been done.

But she knew what was important. It was her grandson whose eternal soul depended upon her making this country safe for his future rule.

"Then I suppose, in light of these facts, there will be a change of plan."

* * *

><p>She had not expected it. Not so soon and not so far either. It was January and Mary and George had both been invited to court.<p>

George sat quietly with her in the carriage in stony silence. Mary did too although she couldn't really contemplate her feelings on the matter. It had been a few months since Anne Boleyn's death and the king was still in mourning. Due to this, she and George had been neglected since Christmas and had only just received summons from the king along with a royal pardon.

To say she was relieved at the queen's death was an understatement. The king was free and might accept God had not blessed his second false marriage of sin and return to her mother.

Of course she didn't voice these things out loud. George would never forgive her if she did. Still, she was content with the small happiness they had found together despite their differences. Discreetly, Mary placed her hand upon his. He didn't look at her, but he did squeeze her hand meaningfully in return.

The king was at Whitehall for the early winter months. The place he had given to Anne after Wolsey's demise. She thinned her lips at the idea. On the rare occasions she had travelled with the court to York Place now Whitehall, she had loved the palace and it made her want to grit her teeth that her father had given it to that woman. To that whore.

Quietly, she followed George to the King's audience chamber. To be honest she was quite tired from her journey and her breasts ached for her son, but her duty was her duty.

"Lord and Lady Rochford," the announcer cried. Taking a deep breath and giving a reassuring look to George who returned a meek look back, they entered the audience chamber and knelt down low.

All was quiet for several moments, until a dry and hoarse voice answered them.

"Mary," the king said breathlessly.

Taking it as her queue, Mary took the initiative to raise her head and what she saw shocked her indeed. The king had seemed to have aged a decade. The lean handsome and healthy figure that had been her father was but a ghost of its former self. It was willower than before. His skin was sunken, slack and pallid. His eyes yellow and weary.

Is this what grief had done to her father?

"Your Majesty," Mary said quietly.

He wore a mask of cold indifference, but in his eyes she could see such sorrow and loneliness. A mix of various emotions.

"It is good to see you back at court. Pray tell me, how is your son? George?"

George raised his head too.

"Well and healthy Your Grace. The very image of his mother."

The king nodded and Mary frowned at the lack of enthusiasm.

"I'm sure he is," the king said absentmindedly.

He tried to put on a fake smile for them.

"Welcome back to court. You may leave George and greet your father. He is very…well he is much changed since the queen's death." George nodded gravely, spared a look to Mary and left. An awkward silence ensured and the king jumped off his chair.

"Come Mary. Come to my audience chamber."

Feeling a little uneasy, Mary did as she was bid and wordlessly followed her father into the deep privacy of his room. He gestured for her to take a seat by the fire and she did. He poured them both some wine, handed her a cup and resumed the seat opposite her.

Never in the nineteen years she had lived had her father ever poured her wine or brought her into the privacy of his chambers. He had been affectionate when she was a child, but all that changed when Anne Boleyn had entered the picture.

"You are looking quite lovely I must say. Marriage and motherhood become you."

Mary gave him a bland smile at the compliment and sipped some wine. She didn't know why, but she felt an atmosphere of forbearing. It wasn't long before she found out.

"With the queen's death I am again without an heir. No son. Just Elizabeth. All of it for nothing. I have no son and I have lost my wife too." His voice was toneless and he stared coldly at the fire place. It was then that Mary began to feel uncomfortable. Perhaps she had mistaken his sorrow for resentment and bitterness.

She swallowed hard.

"I am so sorry Your Majesty," she breathed. He didn't look at her.

"I am getting old now and tired of waiting. England needs an heir. I must have a son or this country will fall." Mary resisted the urge to tell him a woman was capable of ruling. He had no care for i,t she could see that and reminding him that she was a true princess was out of the question. She didn't want to promote Elizabeth's rights either.

"After Anne died, I was given a lot of time to myself. To think deeply and I have a plan. It isn't acceptable to me, but it must be done."

Mary raised her brow up in a query and tightened her grip on her mulled wine. "You have a son," he began and Mary felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"You have a son. A legitimate son born in wedlock as undesirable as your marriage is. You have a son. England has an heir."

Mary refrained from sucking in her breath. He couldn't be contemplating what she thought he was? Restoring her to the succession?

"So it is within my mind to legitimize you again and recognize the Pope's ruling as Katherine as my wife."

She was about to say something, something in gratitude, something with daughterly affection, but he continued.

"Your mother and I will remain separate of course. I have no need of her any longer. She can keep her position as queen and rule with me until the end of her days. I am content to leave her with that, but…"

He finally turned to her. She was a little shocked with what he had said about her mother, but she supposed her mother would work it out. She knew the king would see reason and take her mother back.

"I asked you to come here for your consent to something. After I die, the line of succession passes to you, but I have something else in mind."

Mary felt her heart beating a mile per minute.

"Something else Your Grace?" She said feeling her mouth go dry.

The king nodded.

"I want you to refuse your position as the future queen of England. Instead I want you to consent for your son, Owen, to take place as the future King of England. I was thinking we could do what France does since they do not allow women to become queens without a royal husband. You have a son. The throne can pass to him instead. Owen can be the future King of England."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

* * *

><p>She wasn't sure how long she stood there. Rooted to the spot.<p>

The king was expectantly waiting for her to answer him, but when she opened her mouth, she found she was at a loss for words.

Though it had seemed impossible, becoming the queen hadn't strayed far from her thoughts. Even though she had conceded to her bastardy, married George Boleyn and bore him a child.

Now the king had decided to change all that. Restore her honour, her prestige and her rightful heritage. But at what price? At the cost of her own glory? All in favour of her son?

She bit her bottom lip and considered. The chances of her becoming queen were dismal at best. Though Anne's death had come as a blessing, she hadn't expected the situation to change as it was.

But it had…

And now…

"But Your Majesty, if you restore me, while I am living the law dictates such precedence even if I am a woman," she said quietly. Her father gave her a harsh scrutinizing look and she felt acutely guilty now. It sounded selfish, but she had every right to be. Of course she wanted only the best for her son, but she was tired of her father's antics. Of choosing wives and heirs when he saw it fit.

"Yes, but laws can be changed. France forbids women to rule in their own right. I am the king and I could pass that precedence. You would be the princess again though and upon my death, your son will be king. You'll still be a princess and known as My Lady the King's Mother. Fitting isn't it?"

His gaze turned soft and he reached out to touch her hand. "I want there to be no more ill feeling between us," he whispered to her. "I am doing this to repent for how I have wronged you and also because England needs an heir." Mary kept her expression completely bland. However she wanted to cry more than anything.

He did not care for her. Not at least as much as she wanted him to. His affections for her hardly came into the equation so any repentance he wanted to do was obviously a twist of the truth. He just wanted her son. The son her mother couldn't give him. The son Anne never gave him.

She wanted to fight him with all her power and refuse. She wanted to tell him what she thought of his plan with the frank and brutal truth. But she knew such disrespect would be a major sin against God the Holy Father and the Catholic Church. For disrespecting a king and failing to honour her father.

Briefly she wondered if she was just so damned weak now that she couldn't even fight for her inheritance. Yet what choice did she have? She was powerless to do anything. This was the best offer she was ever going to get.

With an inward sigh, she closed her eyes for a moment and opened them again.

"I accept."

* * *

><p>Elizabeth Darrel had been appointed to care for Mary's child while she and George returned to court. Swallowing hard and wrapping the babe in the warmest furs, Elizabeth thought it cruel for the queen to do this, but it had to be done.<p>

It was a shame Mary was not to come with them, but she had proven herself untrustworthy. Katherine of Aragon had been disappointed by her husband and now betrayed by her very own daughter. The affection between Mary and George made it all the more obvious.

And now it was the time to strike back. With Anne's convenient death in childbed and Mary away at court, Queen Katherine could now attack.

The boy however had to be protected at all costs. He was England's beacon of hope. England's future. And for England's safety he would be taken to Spain and educated at the Spanish court. Born to be a true Catholic and Jesuit. Bred to root out heresy with the wrath of God. He would be England's future King and Katherine would work hard to make this country safe for him upon his return.

"Let's go," Elizabeth said to Brereton who had come with an armed escort hidden from the Rochford estate to make their way to the coast.

Discreetly they made their way out of the nursery and travelled through the servant's passages. No one would see them and those that were helping them were bought and paid for. Owen started to get a little restless and Elizabeth briefly stopped to rock and sooth him.

It wasn't long before they reached the courtyard and were on their way to the armed litter that awaited them. Elizabeth stepped inside the carriage and William followed suite. Within moments they were off and they'd be long gone before the wet nurse rose to feed Owen and even longer before the king and Princess Mary were informed.

"It is a shame his mother can't be taken to safety with him." Elizabeth muttered. Brereton raised a brow and shrugged. "It seems even the queen cannot trust her own daughter. It is sad, but won't matter much when she takes over as regent."

Elizabeth raised her brow.

"Regent?" She echoed.

William nodded and leaned back into the seat.

"Princess Mary is still the heir, but the queen is going to do everything in her power to limit her daughter's influence and responsibilities. The queen is afraid the Boleyn's have turned her into a heretic. That is why upon the princess's end, her son will be the model Christian prince to keep England safe."

"So Mary will be queen?" Elizabeth said thoughtfully.

William nodded.

"Queen in name only. I expect her coronation to be within the year if all goes according to plan. You do know what Queen Katherine intends to do don't you?"

Elizabeth gulped and held on to Owen a little tighter. Something William noticed out of his peripheral vision.

"So she has made up her mind then. She will kill him."

Brereton's expression was grim.

"Discreetly of course, but it has to be done. The king is a heretic who refuses to recant. The Pope has given his blessing."

Elizabeth stared at him for several moments and quietly nodded.

She looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms. One day this child would grow into a marvellous man who would one day return home to see the country his grandmother had worked so hard to make safe for him.

And meet the mother that was taken from him.

All for good reason.

At least that was what she told herself.

"And what of George?"

William's eyes were closed, but Elizabeth knew that he was just resting.

"My wife will take care of that."

* * *

><p>George lay asleep in their bed and Mary watched over him in quiet contemplation. In the few months since Owen's birth, the affection between them had grown stronger and dwindled at the same time. George had taken Anne's death hard, which didn't leave much room to fix their relationship, but had provided the perfect opportunity for them to comfort each other.<p>

She smiled at him sadly and stared out the window. She had told him of the king's plan and he had seemed unsure of how to react. Their son would be the King of England at the expense of Princess Elizabeth being disinherited and declared a bastard. An insult to Anne's memory.

While Mary couldn't muster up any pity for the dead lady, she did so for Elizabeth who was by all rights, her sister. So young and had already lost her mother, her title and the love of a king. Did her father even care about Elizabeth? She gathered not.

He was just desperate for a son.

George stirred in his sleep a little. Mary frowned realizing he was having a bad dream, but she decided not to wake him. Instead, she headed to the outer chambers to fetch herself some mulled wine. Dimly she sat in front of the fire place and ignored the ache in her breasts or the pounding of her heart. She missed her child deeply and wondered if this was the sort of pain her lady mother felt when she was separated from her.

Or worse, when her children had died.

Mary swallowed hard. She couldn't imagine losing Owen.

The sweet little boy who was a Tudor through and through. She sipped her wine and thought about him until eventually she began to doze off.

The sound of a door closing woke her up and her eyes opened to the darkness of the room. The fire had died out long ago and the room was almost pitch black save for the eerie illumination of moonlight.

Rubbing her eyes, Mary decided to return to bed with George. Drearily, she stumbled into the inner chambers finding George exactly where she had left him.

She noticed he was strangely motionless. She couldn't even hear his breathing. Perhaps the dream was no nightmare after all.

Quietly, she tiptoed to his side of the bed intent on giving him a kiss. She bent down and as her free hand went to his chest to give herself support she ended up touching a wet sticky substance.

Wet?

Mary pulled her hand away and looked at George as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

As she bent closer to his face, she realized his shift was stained, but stained with what?

And then her senses picked up its scent.

Mary's screams could be heard throughout the palace.

It was blood.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: We are getting to the climax now. Yes I know how many people probably hate me, but you don't play the 'Game of Thrones' where everybody wins!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Don't you just love political backstabbing.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>The bells of the cathedral chimed in union at Westminster Abbey, but Mary scarcely heard them. The king had given George Boleyn full honours, the honours of a man married to a princess, but that didn't matter either. She was still in shock and though George's body was on display and had been cleaned up and dressed accordingly, Mary was still trying to convince herself that this was all real.<p>

George Boleyn was dead, but of what nobody knew. Doctor Linacre had declared that he had died of consumption by the amount of blood he had coughed up, but Mary could scarcely believe it. George had not been sick. He had not been sick at all. In pity, Doctor Linacre had said to her maybe grief for the loss of his sister Queen Anne had made him forget his health.

Mary still refused to believe it. Even now as she reached out to touch his hand which was cool and lifeless, she still couldn't believe that the only man she had ever loved and spent so little time with was dead. Why had God forsaken her so? Sitting alone in the privacy of a section allocated to him, Mary used her thumb to caress his embalmed pale hand.

Dressed in nothing but black, Mary swallowed hard and spoke to him.

"I wish…I wish we could have known each other more. Physically I mean…we only ever made love once." Her throat began to ache and Mary felt her eyes prickle with tears. Swallowing hard, she reached over to touch his face. It was as smooth as she remembered it, but as cold as porcelain. At the same time she was half expecting him to wake up and bid her good morning and that this was nothing more than a dream.

"She took my son. She took Owen and I do not know what to make of it. Why didn't she take me? Take me with him? Was it not safe?"

Her reasoning told her that was her mother's plans, but she found it very hard to be delighted by them. Shortly after George's death, a messenger came with urgent news that her son and Lady Darrel had disappeared by coach into the night. Following that messenger, one came from the More saying that Katherine of Aragon was gone. It had been barely a few weeks, but they soon all found out that Spanish soldiers had made it upon English soil, that commoners had risen up against the king in favour of her mother and that her son, her little prince had seen safely sent off to Spain.

Mary closed her eyes. Her mother was fighting for her rights, but it didn't make her feel better. Not with George dead and her son gone. None of it felt right. Couldn't her lady mother instigate war without taking her son? He was just as valuable to the king as he was to her mother.

Needless to say, the fact that her mother had instigated holy war was enough to make her speechless. Why now? Why not before?

And the whole idea of war. It scared her. Mary had only ever known peace in her father's rule even during the divorce of her mother. She wanted to break, to fall on her knees in despair. But she could not. Not now. She needed to find out what was going on and do everything in what little power she had to get back her son. Or at least find out what her mother wanted to do with him

_Help me George, I am so lost._

* * *

><p>Norfolk assessed the Northern map area. His army was safely lodged in Yorkshire and was pending orders from Queen Katherine. She was marching up from Lincoln with Lords that had defected, Spanish troops and commoners that had joined her throng. Lord Latimer was assessing the finances and budgets and while they had just enough to feed the army, commoners had offered their devotions in support of the queen. Understandable. The common people had held no love for Anne and the King's push to separate from Rome had destroyed their faith in him.<p>

Norfolk was a practical man. He usually cared nothing for the common people or their opinions and saw them as nothing, but as a means to an end. They were merely cannon fodder to be used in armies and work the land, but at certain times they had their uses. However he wasn't a practical man for those particular reasons. Like any courtier, he sought to increase his position and that of his family. He had no problems throwing his weight behind Anne so the Howards could be part of the monarchy. Even if it meant joining the heretical teachings of the Lutherans. He would still be Catholic at heart and Anne, the king and his brother in law could condemn themselves to hell for all he cared. What mattered was what he did in this world and he put the throne of England above all, even family and religion.

Anne had failed. She had failed to give the king a son and died silently and alone in childbirth. The Princess Elizabeth was nothing more than a useless Howard whore in the nursery who could never hope to attain the throne. Had she been the only heir as slim as her chances were, he would have marched for Elizabeth's rights. But now he had an even greater opportunity.

The people would never accept Elizabeth, but they would accept Mary. And Mary had married his nephew. Mary had given birth to a son. A Boleyn. A Howard. He had someone to support and such support would be acknowledged at court and he would rise and be recognized throughout the ages. He could have supported either Henry of Katherine. It made no difference. Both had their sights on making Mary's son a king, yet he had chosen Katherine's side for practical and religious reasons.

With Mary and Owen back on the throne, England would return once again to the true faith and back into the safety and protection of Rome. England was at the mercy of enemies from its excommunication and was flooded with heretics. God had condemned England and proved it so by killing Anne.

Now a new star was rising and they would be on the edge of a golden world. But Norfolk was no fool. He always planned ahead. Princess Mary had married someone below her station and though it was without royal consent, the marriage was accepted anyway. Yet she was now conveniently a widow.

Mary was going to be queen, that much was evident. His spy network had picked up on Katherine's plan to kill the king. Most people would find that devious and shocking, but Norfolk simply brushed it off as politics. King Henry had had his heyday and he had practically brought this country to ruin. It was time he was out of the way. With Mary as queen, she was free in the marriage market and being a diplomat and ambassador for many occasions for the king, he knew that the English people did not want a foreign monarch influencing their queen.

If he convinced Mary to marry his son, the Earl of Surrey, the Howard family would rule this country forever. With Owen Boleyn flooded in Howard blood as the future King and the possibility of more Howard children between Mary and his son, their line in the royal monarchy would be assured forever. He only hoped he would win this war to see his plan bear into fruition.

The only obstacle after that was Katherine. No doubt the woman was the perfect mascot for gathering support, but after she had served her purpose, he would have her killed too. He would not allow that Spaniard woman to control and rule through the Princess Mary. He wanted no Spanish influence whatsoever.

"My Lord, I have received word that Queen Katherine is only a day away from here."

Norfolk rolled up his map and gave a bland stare to his chamber usher.

"Good. See that everything is prepared appropriately. Send Sir Edward Seymour in here would you?"

His usher nodded and went off to do his duties. There was still a few things to take care of.

"My Lord," Edward said with a bow as he entered his chambers. Norfolk stood from his chair and went to stare out at the window with his hands behind his back.

"Tell me Seymour, what do you think of Spaniards?"

The question caught the man in question off track and he struggled to answer.

"What do you mean my lord?"

Norfolk didn't look at him. He didn't need to.

"I mean what do you think about those backward savages and their crass unsophisticated ways?"

Edward Seymour blinked, having never heard it said aloud so bluntly. He answered nonetheless.

"Well it is true that many find the court life of Spain unfulfilling and nobody really wants them here. But our queen is Spanish and so is our princess. One can't also deny the importance of the royal blood running through the veins of both of them as the descendants of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella."

Norfolk scoffed at that. Katherine's blood only served its purpose for monarchical marriages and nothing more.

"True, but the _queen's _interests are Spanish interests and not English. When this war is over she will be queen no more."

Silence followed and Norfolk patiently waited for Edward to say something. He didn't have to wait long.

"What are you saying my Lord?"

It was now that Norfolk turned away from the window to face him.

"I am saying that Katherine has outlived her usefulness. The king may die in this war if he so chooses to go into battle and accidently gets himself killed," he paused, "God forbid." He was smart enough not to reveal the plans to actively murder the king. Such things were better left unsaid until those involved could be made to disappear.

"Which would make Princess Mary the Queen of England. Though she has Spaniard blood in her veins from her mother's side, she has Tudor blood from her father's and clearly she is an English woman through and through. She married an English man and bore him a child despite the circumstances of her wedding. Clearly she knows what's at stake here and knows England comes first. She owes Spain no allegiance."

Norfolk could see that Edward was starting to understand this. To him it probably seemed like an improbable reality of Mary becoming queen, but Norfolk had already taken the pains to make sure it happened.

"Just some advice to be wary for the Princess Mary. It is our job as her future advisors to protect her from such outside influence even if it is from her own mother, which is why I am entrusting you with a very special task."

Curiosity piqued, Edward listened intently.

"Queen Katherine hasn't been able to safely extract her daughter away from the battle. Though she is somewhat safe, it would be best if she was removed from all harm. She is only a woman after all. That is why I want you to safely get her away from London and bring her up to Yorkshire where her safety will be guaranteed. My son Henry will go with you. Your sister is with her I presume?"

Edward swallowed.

"She was the princess's lady in waiting when she returned to court before her pregnancy was revealed, but I do not know if she is serving the princess now. However she is there, yes."

Norfolk shrugged. "Either way, she may be able to be of help when it comes to smuggling the princess out of there. Do you accept this task? I assure you, you shall be greatly rewarded and from this the princess would see you as her saviour and value that for life. The rewards and gratitude she will give you as queen I am sure, will be…tremendous."

It did the trick. Norfolk smiled to himself.

Things were going according to plan. Soon both Owen and Mary would be in his security. Katherine was a fool to leave her daughter be, under the pretext that no one else would be aiming to capture and control her daughter other than the king. She was an even bigger fool to think that she could send Prince Owen off to Spain and think the English people or her own daughter would accept that.

He had already taken care of that issue.

* * *

><p>Lifeless blue eyes stared back at him, but he felt no pity. The woman was a whore and the man next to her was nothing but a fool. Both of them were dead now. They had been stabbed in their abdomens a few times and their throats had been slit. Jane would be more than pleased. She wanted nothing to do with William and she claimed the child he had given her and his titles and wealth were enough. She was a devious and cunning woman and he liked her for that, William had thought she was on his side all along, but her allegiance had been somewhere else. Something that suited a greater purpose.<p>

One of his lackeys held the crying baby prince swaddled in his arms. They'd have to look for a wet nurse along the way to take care of the child and feed him until they managed to travel back to Yorkshire. They had only just caught Elizabeth and William before they made it to the coast. With one last look at their pale bodies leaking out blood, he grunted and made his way over to his horse.

_Fools _he thought.

Adjusting his eye patch, he took his lackey to keep the child safe and warm, until they made it safely to his mother where arrangements would be made for the child. First of all, they needed to find a wet nurse.

Mounting his horse, he left the bodies of Elizabeth Darrel and William Brereton to rot.


End file.
